


Left For Dead

by SASundance



Series: Tony and the LOLs [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Automatic thoughts, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e10 Left For Dead, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-08 06:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SASundance/pseuds/SASundance
Summary: What happened after the bomb went off at the Bombe Fernendeckung Fabrik building when Tony walked away from Gibbs at the end of the final scene and was homeless for a month?  While Gibbs told him his door was always unlocked after twice refusing Tony's request to stay with him, Tony replied, "I know." He didn't respond, "Thanks Boss," and that was suggestive to me at least that he had no intention of accepting Gibbs' less than cordial invitation.
Series: Tony and the LOLs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1547710
Comments: 137
Kudos: 263





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of a story I wrote back in May 2013. There is also a sequel I'll post here too. I hope you enjoy them both - they have a special place in my heart because of the three OCS I created, affectionately known as The LOLs (short for little old ladies) who were enthusiastically embraced by readers. Since the sequel was set during Thanksgiving it seemed timely to repost them now. 
> 
> At the time I wrote:
> 
> While watching the Left for Dead episode, I was taken aback by the meanness displayed by the team about Tony being homeless for a month and well... it fired my imagination and inspired this tag. It contains some dark, angst-filled hurt although not so much comfort. It is an examination of how Tony reconciles being treated like a doormat by those people he regards as his family and how the internal dialogues that we develop in childhood influence our adult behaviour. I hope you enjoy it :)

NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo stood outside the Bombe Fernendeckung Fabrik building, staring morosely at the bombed-out area as the snow continued to fall softly, gently in the silent, stillness of the night. It struck him…the silence.

It was in such stark contrast to the chaos that had ensued earlier. Suzanne McNeill, the woman that had been found buried alive in Rock Creek Park had suddenly regained her memory just a short while ago in the lobby. She’d decided to make her sleazebag boyfriend pay for ending their relationship, almost killing her in the process. Her payback involved blowing both of them up and too bad if anyone just happened to be close enough to get caught in the crossfire.

Yeah, it didn't make much sense to him either; he could understand her wanting to make Stephan Brauer pay, he really could. Still, blowing herself up, as well as her married ex-boss seemed like taking the whole woman scorned thing, a tad too far.

Especially, when you consider that in exacting revenge on Brauer, his crazy ex-girlfriend could easily have killed Gibbs, Cate and Tony too, simply because she wanted vengeance for being shafted by her sleazoid boyfriend. Then again, she was hardly the victim that Cate had built her up to be, so full of goodness and virtue either. Turned out, she had killed BFF's Chief of Security in the hotel when he tried to fob her off for Brauer with a redundancy package. Damned crazy chick!

Standing there immobile, he watched the EMTs ministering to a shattered Caitlin Todd, who was clearly in shock after the events leading up to the explosion. He and Gibbs were much luckier since Cate had been standing closer to the explosive device when it went off. He could tell that the physical damage was pretty superficial in nature, but he doubted that the emotional consequences could be discounted as easily, though. Cate tended to wear her heart on her sleeve at the best of times, but she was so determined that her lame dog um Jane Doe was as innocent as the driven snow she’d refused to see evidence that contradicted her narrative. This would hit her hard!

Their probie had broken Gibbs' Rule # 10 about getting too emotionally involved in the case. She had convinced herself that Suzanne O'Neill was simply a victim of a heinous crime, which was correct up to a point since Stephan Brauer had tried to kill her when she threatened to tell his wife about their affair. Now, with the realisation that she as a professional profiler had gotten it wrong plainly etched across Cate's bruised and bloodied face, Tony's innate sense of empathy prodded at him to try to fix Cate's pain, grief and disillusionment. He hated seeing anyone suffer and honestly, law enforcement could break an agent's heart like no other profession, in his humble opinion.

Risking your life, serving and protecting the vulnerable, only to discover that some of those people didn't warrant your devotion, was a hard lesson for any of them to learn. While he hated seeing anyone suffering, Tony really, really hated seeing his friends or colleagues in pain. Standing shoulder to shoulder with Gibbs, as they watched the EMTs deal with their newest team member, he felt utterly impotent as he watched the paramedic gently place a sterile dressing over the laceration on Cate's wrist. There had to be something that they could do to make her feel better.

He turned to Gibbs. "We've gotta do something Boss."

Gibbs turned to look at him with equal measures of cynicism and sadness. "Have you ever made a mistake, Tony?"

"According to you or me?" he asked aloud. _'Cause by your definition Gibbs, I make them on a regular basis. _He didn't think it prudent to state that sentiment though._ Then there are all the mistakes I've made according to dear old Dad, but hey, we're standing here freezing our balls off, so not gonna go there, either.'_

Gibbs stared at him implacably. "You."

"Yeah." _Tony decided to keep it brief since Gibbs preferred brevity._

Gibbs question was deceptively gentle. "Anyone ever make you feel better?"

Tony felt his stomach clench. "No." _Of course, for many of the so-called mistakes, the only person who could have made him feel better was the person who had berated him for being weak and stupid. The likelihood that he would ever try to make him feel better was less than a cute little piglet sprouting wings and flying around a moon made of cheese. He’d spent most of his life looking after himself for a reason. _

Feeling powerless, he turned and walked away, wanting to put some distance between himself and the crime scene. They wouldn't be permitted to process the scene tonight, and it was quite possible that Director Morrow would assign that task to another team since they were now considered to be survivors of a crime. He'd cadge a lift back to NCIS with one of the other agents or LEOs, so he could collect his car and head off home. Right now, he really just craved solitude in his sanctuary.

As he headed off, Gibbs called out to him, "My door’s unlocked."

Smirking, because he couldn't believe how dumb that was for anyone who worked in law enforcement. "I know," he replied softly, smiling at the incongruity of that information, not bothering to turn around.

Then it hit him. Damn it, he'd forgotten about his apartment and the boiler. Of course, if it was going to happen, it would have to be in the middle of a DC winter. He really longed to collapse into his bed and forget that today ever happened.

At least the threat to blow up a Navy ship had been a false one, so that was something to be grateful for. The bombs that their bomb maker Suzanne McNeill made were all accounted for and her memories of planting explosives on Navy ships had been false. It had really just been mock-ups at BFF that she was remembering in her amnesic state. And as for Stephan Brauer and Suzanne, neither of them had been innocents; both had blood on their hands, but he supposed that they still had friends and family who would mourn their deaths. For Tony though, it was the anguish that he could still picture in Cate's eyes, which filled him with inexorable rage.

Maybe Gibbs was right, there was nothing that he could do to make her feel better but that didn't stop him wondering just how much responsibility he should bear for her pain. If she hadn't been in such a hurry to give her bedroom to anyone but him, even a perfect stranger who may be part of a plot to blow up a navy ship, for heaven’s sake, would she have been so damned determined to drag O'Neill home with her? Would she have become so emotionally attached to the mad bomber chick if they hadn’t been sharing her living space?

Surely not!

He recalled a college professor at OSU talking about the effects of propinquity on attraction and he suspected that physical closeness also worked for friendships too. He very much doubted that she'd have bonded with her so strongly if she hadn't been joined to the hip with her new roomie. So really, indirectly he was responsible for her feeling so crappy.

If Cate hadn't been so desperate to have a legitimate reason to turn him down '_when _' he asked to stay with her, she wouldn't have become attached to her roomie so damned fast. The irony was of course, that he would never have asked Todd if he could stay at her place. Not after being rebuffed swiftly by both Ducky and Gibbs, the two men that he regarded as his role models.

Tony couldn't help wondering, what it was about him that was so damned abhorrent that Cate would leap at inviting a possible murderer slash terrorist into her home; simply because she was alarmed at the prospect that he might ask her if he could crash at her place. Probably the same thing that made Gibbs and Ducky refuse him a place to stay when he asked them too, he concluded sadly.

Oh sure, Gibbs had just told him as he left the crime scene, that his door wasn't locked, which he guessed was an oblique way of saying he could stay at Gibbs. Although, surely that was because his boss had taken pity on him after they were nearly killed tonight. Being blown up by a bomb tended to affect one's judgement, which was understandable, and it was easy to make hasty decisions based on emotions.

He knew damned well that Gibbs would regret the offer as soon as Tony set foot in the Marine's personal castle; that was even supposing that he didn't already lament his moment of weakness, as soon the Boss had opened his mouth. Tony refused to hold his boss to an invitation extended under duress, though.

Gibbs had already made his real feelings more than clear earlier today. There was no way he would inflict himself on Gibbs, although he appreciated his offer since he obviously didn't really want Tony in his home. His boss had expressed himself in unequivocal terms earlier on today. Twice actually.

The former cop supposed after slapping him over the head at BFF earlier on when he'd cracked a joke which left the senior field agent's left ear ringing from the force of the blow, that Gibbs had good reasons for not wanting Tony in his home. Having to put up with Tony at work was enough of a challenge. He’d made that obvious enough so even someone as dumb as he was could get the message. And he had!

His father was right about him being a waste of space. And if Tony had ever needed further proof that he was an obnoxious excuse for a human being, it was their newest team member feeling compelled to take that damned woman home. A perfect stranger…a killer.

While Cate had only received minor injuries to recuperate from, he knew that the real damage was impossible to see but would endure. It was the emotional scars that really left their mark, as he knew full well.

It was time to take a good hard look at this version of Anthony DiNozzo who he’d created when he came to D.C. after the fiascos with his ex-partner, Danny Price and his former fiancée, Wendy Miller. This persona was an attempt to fix up his many personality flaws and now he needed to figure out where he went wrong so he could avoid repeating his mistakes next time.

That way, maybe he wouldn't end up hurting those people he worked with and who had come to mean so much to him. It would probably be a good start if he worked on not being such a whiny, needy person who expected other people to come to his aid when he got into trouble.

After all, Tony reminded himself, he was an adult and capable of taking care of himself. He'd been doing it most of his life.

So, why was he suddenly getting so soft all of a sudden? Why was he expecting other people to fix his messes? That was juvenile and weak but then, as Senior had pointed out on more than a few occasions when he was growing up, he was a weak, pitiful individual.

It was time to grow up and stop hurting people who were way better than he was or ever could be.

What was the big deal if he was without heat or power for a month? He still had a roof over his head, after all. Homeless people didn't even have that much. He should suck it up and be damned grateful for what he had rather than focusing on what he didn't.

Tony remembered when he worked as a beat cop, finding vagrants and addicts who had frozen to death during blizzards and he felt disgusted that he was too weak to cope without heat or power for a month.

God, his father had been right about him all along; he was weak and pathetic, and it was time to get a grip. No wonder Gibbs was disgusted by him; he was a Marine, the toughest of the tough. Marines survived for months in combat without fripperies like heating. He should be able to cope with a minor inconvenience for a few weeks; he still had a soft bed to sleep in at least. He could always grab a hot shower at work.

Maybe if he stopped being such a self-centred ass, only worried about himself.

Maybe if he'd been a nicer person, a better person. 

Maybe if he wasn’t such a disgusting person, maybe he wouldn’t be responsible for Cate making such a painful, rookie error.

But all the maybes didn’t make up for what she had to deal with now, knowing that Jan Doe aka Suzanne McNeill had killed Brauer with a bomb she’d taken from her office, on Cate’s watch. He was the senior field agent that made it his fault – no maybe about it!

In keeping with his resolve to be a better person and senior field agent, he'd stop off at the office and make certain his report was perfect then hit the shower. He really needed a piping hot shower to try and ease all the aches and pains that resulted from being in a concussive explosion. Plus, aside from his bruises he was filthy from the bomb blast.

Yeah, Tony concluded wearily, being blown up really sucked.

Endnote:

Just wanted to people know that thanks to the awesome help of Aussiefan70 I have completed the first draft of Rising to the Bait and intend to post chapters after I edit them. I'm optimistic that I can do so before the end of this year, fingers crossed. 


	2. At the Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gibbs receives an early morning telephone call informing him Tony has been injured and races to the hospital. Abby, Cate and Ducky turn up soon after and Chris Pacci tears them a new one

Gibbs was getting ready to head into the office. He took the last mouthful of his morning coffee before rinsing the cup and leaving it to drain, inverted on the kitchen sink. Just as he picked up his car keys, plus his ID, wallet and the cell phone, it rang. Knowing it would be work-related at 0600 hours, he barked in his usual abrupt fashion, "Gibbs."

He was right. It was Supervisory Special Agent Chris Pacci, whose team had been on call overnight and he informed him he was at the hospital with DiNozzo who was undergoing emergency surgery for stab wounds. All Pacci would say was that Tony had been attacked by two assailants and it was serious. Leaping into the car, Jethro headed for the hospital at his usual breakneck speed while calling Cate, Ducky and Abby to tell them that he wouldn't be into work and obviously, neither would Tony.

He wasn't surprised when they all insisted on coming down to the hospital to make sure their team-mate was alright. It made Gibbs feel proud of his team that they cared so much about each other. It was part of what made the MCRT so damn good.

He remembered how concerned Tony had been over Cate two weeks ago after that mad bitch blew them all up and Todd realised that she'd been taken for a ride by someone who had turned out to be a killer. As he pulled into the hospital car park, he became conscious of the fact that Tony had been unusually quiet since that case but then so had Cate. Not surprisingly, as her confidence had been badly shaken by her blunder in cozying up to a murderer.

He'd just assumed that it was quieter than usual because Cate was missing her usual piss and vinegar attitude and Tony had listened to his advice and was giving her space. Now he wondered if he was withdrawn because of a more sinister explanation. Maybe something or someone was troubling him but surely if that was the case, he would tell Gibbs, wouldn't he?

Of course, he would – they were partners after all.

~ Left for Dead ~

Chris wasn't surprised to see Gibbs roll up to the hospital at least ten minutes before he reasonably could have expected him, in spite of the fact that he had to drive in from Alexandria, even if the traffic was lighter at that time of the morning. Anyone who knew anything about the diving habits of the leader of the MCRT knew that Gibbs' normal driving speed rivalled that of a car travelling on a German Autobahn which unlike freeways in the US, didn't have a general speed limit. The difference being that Gibbs always drove everywhere as if he was on the Autobahn, regardless of the type of road or the driving conditions.

Even still, he'd managed to arrive at the hospital much sooner than Chris had expected. In typical Gibbs mode, he strode in, dispensing with any social pleasantries as was his wont, demanding a Sit Rep but was interrupted constantly as one by one, the rest of his people rolled in too. Not surprisingly, the interruptions made an already very pissed off Gibbs even crankier.

Predictably enough, Ducky wanted to know everything about Tony's injuries and Chris was only able to tell them that Tony had numerous abdominal wounds and several blows to his face. The doctors' thought based upon tests, that he might have a perforated intestine and a lacerated liver. He'd been in surgery for approximately ninety minutes so far and hearing those details, everyone looked grave.

Gibbs glared at Pacci. “Why wasn't I notified sooner, Chris? I'm his emergency contact person. More to the point, who signed the consent forms for his treatment?"

Chris shrugged. "He did, Gibbs, he was still conscious when they brought him in. As to why I didn’t call you sooner – Tony told me not to call you until you were leaving for the office. Said he ‘didn't want to be a bother,’ and I'm quoting him."

Gibbs, Ducky, Abby and Cate all looked confused before Gibbs demanded to know exactly how DiNozzo had been wounded. Chris grimaced, trying to organise the facts into a cogent report, just the way Gibbs liked them, salient points all condensed into bullet form. Trying his best to stay unemotional and recount just the facts, but the honest to God truth was that the mild-mannered NCIS agent was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Special Agent Pacci had developed a soft spot for DiNozzo over the two and a half years that he'd know and worked with the young agent. His feelings were making it very difficult for Chris to act dispassionately.

He felt proud of the kid's courage and determination to protect individuals that he felt needed protecting, but he was also angry at him because Tony was so darned stubborn and proud. If only he had taken up Chris' offer of a room at his place until his building was habitable again, he never would have been in the situation where he was stabbed and nearly died. As it was, he was going to face a long and difficult recovery, if he was lucky. The medicos had been rather grim prior to going into surgery.

Taking a deep breath, Pacci began to report. "He was at the 24-hour coin-operated laundry on Drummond Street, a few blocks from his building at 0230 when he heard someone screaming in the alley, out the back. He ran out there and found a man trying to rape a young runaway, who was using the alley to turn tricks. While he was arresting the dirtbag, a second guy came up behind him and stabbed him multiple times before kicking him in the head, and then they ran off together.

“Tony did manage to get a couple of shots off and it looks like he winged at least one of them, going by the blood in the alley before he collapsed. The manager of the laundry called 911 and managed to stem the loss of blood ‘til the EMTs arrived." He reported evenly.

"What the devil was he up to, doing his laundry at 0230 in the morning, Chris?" Gibbs demanded, shaken. As Pacci knew, when Gibbs as feeling vulnerable or out of control, he usually fell back on anger as his default setting.

"Yeah and more's to the point, why was he doing it at a 24-hour laundry. Tony has a brand-new washer-drier in his apartment. That just sounds too hinky." Abby threw in her two cents worth, upset to hear the seriousness of the injuries.

Pacci rolled his eyes, wanting to strangle these dense people. "Well to answer both your questions, he's been working such long hours lately, as you know, so he hasn't had a chance to get to the laundry at a reasonable time. He finally ran out of clean clothes and when he got home last night, he realised he didn't have anything to wear today.

“He went out to do a load of laundry before he grabbed a few hours of sleep. And yeah Abby, you're right, he does have a washer-drier combo in his apartment, but he has no heat or power, so obviously he couldn't use them. Hasn't had any for over two weeks now and won't have any for another three weeks, at least."

Abby like the others, looked confused. "So, where's he been staying, then? Has he been with you?" She stared at the trio of Gibbs, Ducky and Cate who all shook their heads. "I just figured he was staying with one of you guys," she looked at the others who looked equally nonplussed.

Chris looked at the group, wondering how such so-called hotshot investigators could be so dumb. "He's been staying at his apartment."

"Why is the idiot staying in an apartment without heat or power in the middle of winter? I told him my door was always unlocked. Damn him." Gibbs demanded heatedly.

Ignoring that piece of information, Chris said, "I found him sleeping at the office the night of the BFF bombing but unfortunately so did the Assistant Director on night duty and he told him unless he was working an active case, to go home to sleep. I wanted him to come back to my place with me, but he refused.”

Seeing the puzzled expressions on their faces Chris felt like banging his head up against the hospital wall. Surely it couldn’t be any denser than these so-called professionals. Gathering what as left of his patience, the usually unflappable agent explained. 

Tony said he needed to stop being a weakling and expecting other people to clean up his messes or put him up. Told me that he always ended up hurting those people who were important to him. He went to try to sleep in his car, but security reported him to that asshole Assistant Director Kersh and he threatened him with a suspension if he didn't follow his direct order not to sleep on the premises, so then Tony went home."

Gibbs exploded, "Why didn't he come to mine? I told him to before he left BFF."

"Yeah, Tony told me that. He said you didn't want him there when he asked you but after you all got blown up and nearly died, you took pity on him.”

Giving Gibbs a reproachful look, he said, “You know as well as anyone, Gibbs, how much he hates to be pitied since he thinks it means he's weak. Plus, he's too busy blaming himself for Cate getting emotionally involved with the whack job McNeill.”

Chris flicked a look over at the probationary agent briefly before staring at Gibbs. “I think he thought he deserved to suffer to be perfectly honest.”

Ducky was looking confused. “But why would he feel it was his fault? It doesn’t make any sense.”

The normally mild-mannered agent became quite vitriolic. “He said that if he wasn't such a terrible partner, that Todd wouldn't have felt so compelled to drag home a total stranger, just so her spare room was occupied if he asked her could he stay with her. So, the idiot feels like it's his fault that she’s feeling so bad about being duped by a murderer." Chris took a breath and looked at the group who looked sheepish.

Abby glared around at her friends. "Where on earth would Tony get a dumb idea like that from? I'd don't understand how such a brilliant investigator can be so dumb when it comes to himself." She looked at Gibbs and Cate who were looking extremely uncomfortable. "What? Where did he get that crazy idea from?"

Gibbs was busily avoiding looking at Ducky…or Cate for that matter.

When no one volunteered to answer her question, Chris obliged.

"Gee, Abby, maybe because Cate told him that was why she was bringing Jane Doe home with her, so she didn't have to refuse him when he asked." Pacci retorted cynically.

Abby's normally alabaster complexion, a combination of naturally fair skin and a cosmetically enhanced cocktail of chemicals, coloured up like a switch had been hit. Two fiery spots of red appeared on her pale cheeks before launching herself at Cate, in a blinding rage.

"How could you be such a bitch, Cate? Why could you hurt our Tony like that? Surely Little Miss Profiler, you've figured out by now that the DiNozzo swagger is just a camouflage for someone who is far too easily hurt?" she bellowed at the shocked agent.

Fortunately, Ducky and Gibbs had seen the signs that Abby's quick temper was about to erupt, and they moved together in a concerted attempt to restrain her, blocking her access to the hapless Cate Todd.

"Enough Abigail, this is not helping young Anthony, at all. In fact, you may well get us thrown out of the hospital if you don't cease screaming like a banshee,” the medical examiner scolded the forensic scientist firmly, a far cry from his usually avuncular demeanour. “For goodness sake, take some deep breaths and settle down, immediately, my dear girl," he ordered her resolutely.

When she had calmed down a little, Pacci regarded the Goth scientist gravely. " while you’re at it, perhaps you should examine your own behaviour Abby before throwing stones at someone else. You're not exactly blameless either. It was all over the building that none of you would give him a place to stay and everyone was joking at his expense, but then again, what else is new?"

"Hey, Chris, no fair. Tony only had to ask, and I would have let him stay on my couch. You know so much, tell me why he didn't just ask me?" Abby protested, acting wounded.

Chris regarded her with more than a touch of scorn. How could she be so obtuse about someone she claimed to be such good friends with.

"Gosh, I don't know Abby, maybe because he thought you'd turn him down like Ducky and Gibbs or rent your room out, just so you didn't have to say no and maybe he didn't want to put you in that position of saying no like the others did when he asked them. And anyway, you knew he didn't have anywhere to stay because he told you, so why didn't you simply offer him a bed? He wouldn't accept one from me, but he just might have if you'd offered."

"Why didn't he just get a room somewhere? I bet if he spent less on clubbing and dating bimbos and wearing designer clothes, he could afford a motel room somewhere, like a normal person." Cate demanded nastily, feeling guilty and defensive about her actions, especially when she had really stuffed up badly despite Tony trying to warn her about trusting Suzanne McNeill.

Chris just glared at her. "Not my business, Agent Todd." The unspoken implication was that it wasn't hers, either.


	3. Meet the LOLs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team wait on news of Tony's surgery and make the acquaintance of his LOLs.

Gibbs sat in the waiting room with his team and Chris Pacci, everyone anxious to hear something about DiNozzo's condition. They had been here for nearly three hours now and after the confrontation between Pacci and the team; they'd all become lost in their own thoughts.

If they were anything like his own, Gibbs figured they were guilt-laden ones. God, he really was a bastard and because he was, Tony had ended up being seriously hurt at best. He wasn't even going to visit the at-worst scenario because he couldn't lose his senior field agent. It simply wasn't an option.

He'd really stuffed up, badly. He more than anyone knew damned well that Tony was someone who was easily hurt and had great trouble trusting people. He would spend most of his time and energy pretending that he was fine, especially when he wasn't and had difficulty asking for or accepting help. So, the fact he’d asked his mentor if he could stay at his place had really been a huge breakthrough for the stubbornly independent, young agent.

Then not only had he refused point-blank to let him stay, not once but twice, Ducky had cut him off when he'd thrown out some less than subtle hints to the ME too. Cate hadn't even waited for him to drop a hint.

No wonder he wasn't game to even think about Abby as a potential port in a storm and hadn’t bothered asking her. Gibbs knew how badly DiNozzo dealt with rejection and being ignored and it bugged the crap out of him that Tony was so hypersensitive. Intuitively though, Gibbs knew that something bad had to have happened to his SFA for him to be so damned vulnerable and thin-skinned. Unfortunately, DiNozzo was so good at camouflaging himself that he’d perfected it into an art form that mostly hid his vulnerabilities from view.

And yet, he couldn't honestly claim that he wasn't aware of Tony's soft underbelly since he got a perverse kick out of yanking the kid's chain all the time. As good as his cocky, frat-boy, bulletproof act was, anytime Gibbs managed to sneak one past DiNozzo and land a blow as evidenced by a grimace or a flicker of pain in those perpetually smiling eyes, it gave Jethro a cheap thrill of triumph. Like he'd won some epic battle or something, instead of the reality that he'd successfully wounded someone he really should be protecting. Gibbs was going to have his work cut out to try to re-establish a degree of trust once again, limited as it had been.

If that wasn't enough to contend with, he'd never noticed that Tony was blaming himself for Cate's blunder with Suzanne McNeil. Damn it, he knew how much Tony needed to look after the people that he worked with. He might act like a selfish, self-absorbed jerk but the truth is that he'd take a bullet for a perfect stranger or in this case, give his life for a young street kid.

He was always the one to make sure people ate or talked when they were troubled, and he was always trying to make others laugh or smile. He often escorted Abby out when she wanted to go clubbing in rough locales and he was her emergency taxi when she needed it too. It was Tony that soothed ruffled feathers when Gibbs was a bastard and he was the one that took care of the hysterical witnesses and victims, he seemed to have great empathy for the suffering of others.

Gibbs berated himself. He should have known that preventing Tony from trying to help Cate in the wake of the FUBAR bombing, even if it wasn't necessary or effective, would just cause him to turn that angst and anger inward instead and somehow find a way to lay the blame on himself. Someone had sure done a number on that kid for him to be so damned eager to believe that he was at fault whenever something went wrong.

Gibbs really wanted to know who was responsible for DiNozzo not trusting people and being so damned eager to step up and take the blame all the time. It wasn't because he had some sort of perverted martyr complex either.

He genuinely seemed to believe that he was at fault and Gibbs had been working since the day he'd dragged him back from Baltimore to join his team to discover why he was so quick to accept blame for things he had no responsibility for. Of course, this fiasco had probably extinguished any of the credibility he'd been building up with him, and he doubted that Tony would be in any hurry to share any secrets with him or anyone else on the team. And frankly, he didn't blame him one bit.

Why the Hell hadn't he checked on him when he didn't turn up on his doorstep the night of the bomb-blast? _Because you were relieved that he didn't show up and disturb the status quo!_

Another 45 minutes had passed, and they were still waiting for news when a trio of little old ladies made their way into the waiting room. None of them appeared to be under seventy-five if they were a day and they all looked like they spent their days baking cookies, knitting jerseys and doting on their grandkids. Ducky smiled at them, and Gibbs wondered if he'd identified them as a benign captive audience for some of his colourful and lengthy anecdotes or was his friendliness simply motivated by his need to heal spirits as well as bodies.

Gibbs noticed that everyone was eavesdropping on the ladies conversation as well, no doubt welcoming the diversion from their own uncomfortable thoughts

"How long before we hear something do you think, Carla?"

"I'm not sure Lil; they said the lad has been on the table for several hours already, so hopefully it won't be too much longer."

"The problem is they wouldn't tell us what his injuries were. Frankie said he was pretty badly hurt. Oh, I do hope he's going to be okay; I'll never forgive myself if anything happened to that boy."

"It wasn't your fault Rae, or ours either, although I know what you mean. Still, he told us his friends would see him right and let him doss down with them. I would have never allowed him to pay for us to stay in that fancy hotel suite; if I'd know he had nowhere to stay himself. You know how much that sweet young man likes looking after us all." Lil, the elderly lady with pin curls and soft round curves responded, patted the tall thin Rae comfortingly on her bony hand.

"Well, I think it might be time we return the favour, ladies. Tony's going to need someone to look after him properly when he comes home from the hospital." Carla stated determinedly, before hearing a loud gasp and turned to really look at the other occupants of the room. She seemed rather alarmed to see a tall young woman clad in Goth get-up and covered in tattoos, bearing down on her.

"Are you here for Tony DiNozzo too?" Abby asked in her low, gravelly contralto.

Gibbs noticed that the tall, thin one they’d called Rae, discreetly crossed herself before answering, "Yes, we are…"

Before they had a chance to interrogate these women about how they knew Tony, a doctor dressed in bloodied scrubs appeared in the doorway, calling for the family of Special Agent DiNozzo.

~Left for Dead~

Gibbs introduced himself, explaining he was Tony's boss and medical proxy and then presented Ducky as his personal physician, before indicating that the people with him were friends and colleagues of the federal agent.

The doctor held out his hand and exchanged a quick handshake with them all, as he introduced himself as Dr Rodriguez, Tony's surgeon before glancing at the three elderly ladies who were also clustered around.

"And you lovely ladies would be?" he asked politely.

"I'm his grandmother," they chorused in unison before looking at each other in confusion.

The doctor looked at them with a mixture of amusement and disbelief since Carla was Hispanic, Rae was African American, and Lil was clearly of Anglo-Saxon descent.

"Really ladies, because I'm having trouble seeing the family resemblance," the surgeon opined, drolly.

"He's bi-racial," Rae offered rather sternly in explanation.

"We're a very big blended family, young man," Lil smiled winsomely.

Everyone looked across at the third little old lady, curious as to what her response would be.

Carla, who was a small wiry woman, studied the middle-aged surgeon, calculatedly. "Rodriguez, that wouldn't be Little Manuel would it; the son of Luis and Maria Rodriguez, whose son is a doctor?

Dr Rodriguez nodded cautiously.

“My goodness, what a small world, it is. I've known your parents for forty years or more, young Manny and I used to mind you sometimes when you were in diapers, young man.

Looking him over critically she observed, “You sure have grown some, since then. And did you know that our Tony often runs errands for your parents when he's not working? We all love that boy, he'd give you the shirt off his own back, that one," Carla stated proudly. She looked to her cronies, who were all nodding in agreement.

The doctor had started to blush bright red as he saw the amusement on the faces of the federal agents and he looked at Gibbs helplessly, unsure how to respond to the trio of elderly 'grandmothers.' Gibbs shrugged and nodded, indicating it was okay to speak in front of them.

"Okay, well we've taken Tony down to the recovery ward where we are watching him carefully. I'm afraid his condition is listed as critical at the moment. Perhaps we should sit down," he indicated to the chairs and sank down gratefully. After four brutal hours of operating, he was dead on his feet.

"Exactly what are his injuries, Doctor?" Ducky inquired anxiously.

"Well he presented in the ER with multiple stab wounds to the abdomen; five I believe. One penetrated his liver while several went into muscles but I'm afraid one perforated his jejunum, and another nicked his colon. That complicated matters greatly and although we were at great pains to lavage… um wash out his abdominal cavity, I am still very concerned about the risk of infections, especially septicaemia.”

Ignoring the shocked exclamations, he directed his attention to Ducky. “Tell me Doctor Mallard, is Tony always so underweight or has he lost a significant amount of weight lately? Do you know if he has been ill recently?" the surgeon quizzed him closely.

Gibbs looked at Ducky who looked surprised by the questions and quite grave at the information about DiNozzo's injuries. Meanwhile, in the background, the Little Old Ladies were tutting, tsking and muttering about how they tried to tell Tony he was too skinny and needed to eat better and take proper care of himself. That he shouldn't run so much and work so hard.

Ducky, his brow furrowed answered slowly, "Well I examined him after he was caught in a bomb blast several weeks ago and he was at his normal weight then. Although I advised him that he could stand to gain several pounds, he always has problems maintaining his weight. He was 179 pounds and I saw no evidence of him being ill that would explain the weight loss, Doctor."

"Well he's managed to drop down eleven pounds since then, Dr Mallard and going by the blood tests and his physical condition, he has essentially lost lean muscle mass. His electrolytes are all over the shop too. His blood work doesn't indicate any signs of inflammation or other issues to account for him losing a significant amount of weight and frankly it isn't going to stand him in good stead for his recovery, now." Dr Rodriguez observed the worried expressions and was disappointed since he'd hoped that they could supply some answers to his questions.

"We need to identify what has caused such a rapid weight loss, so we can try to address it. Has he complained of a loss of appetite lately or feeling unwell, does anyone know?" he explained.

Abby frowned, "I've noticed lately that he's been forgetting to eat unless I nag him to death. He seemed to be preoccupied about something, but he wouldn't talk about it."

Ducky looked at the surgeon. "And Anthony has always had an extremely high resting metabolism and burns calories far too easily. I'm afraid he has been without heat or power for the last couple of weeks, so he is probably burning up copious amounts of energy, just trying to stay warm. If he isn't being attentive about his diet, I'm afraid that the two factors combined, could probably explain why he has dropped such an alarming amount of weight over a two-week period."

He looked at his colleagues, shamefaced at his failure to notice Tony was in trouble, while they too all shifted and squirmed under the irate glares of the fearsome LOLs who had proved that looks really were deceiving. The indomitable trio was regarding them all with undisguised disgust and anger and Gibbs felt as if they were likely to be spanked with a slipper momentarily for their transgressions.

Chris asked Rodriguez if Tony had head injuries from being kicked by the two would-be rapists.

The doctor nodded. "He has a moderate concussion that we need to keep a close eye on, and Tony also has a severely bruised jaw that will make eating food painful for several weeks, at least. When we start him on food, he will be on mostly fluids and soft foods which are going to make it difficult to maintain weight, unfortunately."

He looked at Ducky seriously, "As you know Doctor, such rapid weight loss especially when the body catabolises protein stores, can have serious consequences for immune function, not to mention that it can effect vital organs like his heart, lungs, liver and kidneys. He's going to be staying in ICU longer than the average perforated gastrointestinal case, I'm afraid." Smiling at them all with a generic smile learnt as an intern, he told them he needed to return to check up on his patient.

Carla called to him, "Manny dear, when can we see Tony?"

Dr Rodriguez smiled briefly at the pleading faces, well the military looking guy with the silver-grey hair wasn't begging, more like demanding but the surgeon was no pushover. "Once he's been transferred to a bed in ICU but only family or next of kin." Seeing the glare from the silver-haired agent, he hastened to add that that also included medical proxies. "Of course, as his personal physician, you will also be permitted to see him too, Dr Mallard."

Chris flashed a grin that would be worthy of DiNozzo. "Tony's lucky to have his Grannies here for him, isn't he?"

Rodriguez, heading out the door, snorted, realising he'd been backed into a corner by three little old ladies. He wouldn’t want to play poker against any of them – they’d take him to the cleaners.


	4. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gibbs tells Ducky that Tony has discharged himself AMA from the hospital.

Ducky was in Autopsy, attending to the endless paperwork that was both the scourge of his life and an imperative to ensure that the guilty received their just desserts when they had to answer for their crimes. His concentration was rudely shattered when Leroy Jethro Gibbs stormed into his domain, his face thunderous.

"I'm gonna kill him, Duck!"

The medical examiner laid down his pen and rubbed his hands across his face, not sure if he really wanted to know why Gibbs was in such a foul mood. He had a fair idea that it involved Anthony. Since the young man had been injured coming to the rescue of an unfortunate young runaway, he had been battling a rather unpleasant infection which necessitated him being on the strongest of IV antibiotics and his condition had been keeping them all from getting any restful sleep.

Thankfully, now it seemed that he'd turned the corner and as of two days ago had been transferred out of ICU and into a regular room. Even though he was doing much better, unhappily, the side effects from the drugs were taking their toll on him, still. Although everyone was finally able to breathe again, it seemed that the young man had done something else to invoke the considerable ire of his formidable boss.

"What has Anthony done now, Jethro?" He inquired cautiously. The medical examiner regarded his long-time friend with something approaching trepidation since Jethro's young protégé had quite a talent for attracting trouble.

"I'll tell you what the damn fool has done, Duck. He's gone and signed himself out of the hospital AMA and now he's disappeared. That's what he's done and when I track him down, I'm gonna slap him silly."

The furious agent paced and as he ranted, the volume and intensity of his speech increased until he was practically shouting. Just to emphasize his point, he swept all the surgical implements that were laid out on the stainless-steel trolley awaiting the next autopsy, off the stainless-steel surface, with a frantic flourish.

Ducky frowned, feeling an unsettled fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach "Oh my goodness, that was not advisable, my friend."

"Well, I already know THAT, Duck. Why do ya think I'm so pissed off with him?"

Ducky nodded, swallowing hard before pointing out some home truths. "You do realise you have set a dreadful example for that young man with your own appalling habit of signing yourself out of the hospital against medical advice but what would make him act so rashly? The boy is weak, he can barely stand. I'm actually rather shocked he managed to get out of bed, let alone make it out of the hospital." He paused before regarding his friend intently as he tried to think logically about the situation.

"What on earth would prompt him run off, Jethro?" He glared at his friend, censoriously. "What did you do to him?"

Gibbs glared right back at him, outraged. "I didn't do anything to him, Duck. Why the hell would you think that?"

Ducky examined his friend, who seemed genuinely miffed at Ducky's accusation. "Jethro, you must have done or said something that prompted him to run. Tell me...what was the last conversation you had with him? Tell me exactly what you said and don't leave anything out," he instructed the stubborn agent.

"Nothing, I swear Duck." Gibbs held up his hands, palms showing, in supplication. Abby called him a Papa Bear but truly when Ducky's protective instinct was provoked, he could be ruthless; they'd all learnt never to mess with him when he was truly riled.

Gibbs decided it was easier to comply with his request. "I told him the Doc was thinking about letting him come home in a couple of days. He was really happy with the news. Ya know how he hates doctors and hospitals? I was telling him that he was coming to stay at my place when he got out of the hospital, then he said he was tired, and he wanted to nap for a while.

“He even asked the nurse for something to help him sleep and… oh, damn it Duck, since when does DiNozzo willingly ask for drugs to knock him out? So, what spooked him?" He stared at the elderly ME, bemused by the look of disbelief on the older man’s face.

Ducky shook his head sadly. " Oh my! I think that there are a couple of things that might have made him run. He doesn't cope well when you are nice to him, as you will recall, and you have been rather solicitous to him ever since he was injured. I'm not sure why, but for some reason, he cannot handle kindness from you, although he seems more able to cope with compassion and charity from myself or young Abigail.

“Perhaps because we make it a habit of treating him with care since he is more vulnerable than he would have people know, despite his tough-guy packaging. Then of course, there is the issue of telling him that he was going to be going home to your place. That was the most likely the catalyst, I fear."

"What the hell's wrong with telling him he's coming home with me? He needs somewhere to stay where he'll be safe and can recover." Gibbs practically yelled in frustration. "Why would that make him run away? Tell me that."

"He is loath to appear weak in your eyes, Jethro. He desperately wants to have your respect and he thinks you’re going to take him in only because you pity him, and that is something he will never tolerate." Ducky looked sad and guilty since they all bore responsibility for this mess.

"Bah, not this crap again. I told him I WANT him to come back to my place. Why can't he accept that I mean what I say?" Gibbs snarled.

Ducky stared at him intently. "Exactly, Jethro. And you…well, we all did, in our own ways, tell him very bluntly when he came to us needing help, that we didn't want him to stay with us. It was only once he was hurt that we all extended invitations for him to come and stay with us, while he recovers. Of course, he thinks the invitations have been extended because we pity him. How is he to know that it isn't our pity driving our invitations but our own guilt?"

"Maybe, Duck but DiNozzo knows that I don't say anything I don't mean. I've never lied to him."

"But Jethro, first you told him you didn't want him in your home, in fact twice it seems before you changed your mind. You also preach the dictum that actions speak louder than word, yet none of us was concerned that he had nowhere to stay. We didn't even bother to inquire where he was living for those two weeks. We all just assumed that he'd found a bed somewhere and we're glad it wasn’t with us.” Ducky admitted bluntly.

“Cate assumed that he couldn't afford to pay for a motel room because of his carousing and if we were all being completely honest, while it was an uncharitable thought, it had probably occurred to all of us."

He looked at his friend guiltily. "Yet how typical of Anthony to pay for a hotel suite for those rather formidable ladies, who had nowhere else to go and put his own needs at the end of the queue. He took to heart your message that your action speaks louder than words. I've been conversing at great length with the lad's Grandmothers…"

Ducky was sharp as a tack and noticed Gibbs surreptitious elevation of his upper lip, but he chose to ignore Jethro's amusement as he continued. "… and it seems he is quite the Angel of Mercy to his elderly neighbours. When he can, he will run messages, help with odd jobs and makes himself available day or night to check out strange noises and suspicious strangers. It hardly fits in with his skirt-chasing, joking and casual exterior does it?

The elderly doctor looked ashamed. “Listening to those women and the scores of his neighbours who have flitted in to see him since he was moved out of ICU, it seems that our boy is quite the paragon of virtue."

Gibbs looked at him, still angry, but Ducky surmised now it was most likely self- directed anger rather than wanting to strangle his senior field agent anymore. Good! Jethro needed to find Anthony and try and convince him that he should return to the hospital as a matter of urgency. He wasn't fit to be out of bed, yet.

Ducky shook his head; they had really let him down quite comprehensively. Oh, he could (indeed he had) rationalise his own rebuff of Anthony's tentative approach by telling himself that his mother would be stressed by having a stranger in the house. That he'd wanted to protect her privacy and there was some truth to that pretext. Ever since she had become ill, her numerous eccentricities had magnified, and he was very protective of her dignity.

Yet clearly, Anthony would have been understanding and protective of Victoria Mallard, too if his treatment of Lillian, Carla and Raelene was anything to go by. According to them, he'd insisted on paying extra for them so that they could have cooking facilities and ensured they had plenty of food while they were homeless. Oh yes, Ducky had erred quite badly. He'd assumed when at his stage of life (not to mention with his life experiences) he should have known better than to take someone at face value.

_Haven't you learnt the lesson yet that you don't judge a book by its cover, Donald,_ he chided himself sharply. Anthony had cut his teeth as a beat cop and you don't get any more grassroots or hands-on than that. He was good at dealing with people from all walks of life; it was what made him such a great foil for Jethro who was not.

Unable to quell his curiosity any longer, he asked his long-time friend the question that had been troubling him since young Anthony's injury had occurred.

"Tell me, if it isn't too private a question, Jethro; what was it that Anthony did when he stayed with you the first time that was so terrible?"

Gibbs face darkened with anger, but Ducky knew that with Jethro, any evoking of emotions, even benign ones and most especially positive feelings, invariably triggered Jethro's default setting, his defence-mechanism of anger. That being the case, he wasn't perturbed by the display, nor was he put off either, which he suspected may well be Gibbs intention in order to shut down his attempts at prying.

Ducky just maintained eye contact until Gibbs surrendered. Oh, it was the subtlest of tells and only because he knew the man so well and for so long, was he able to detect the minute relaxation of muscles in his shoulders and jaw, but it spoke volumes to the ME.

"He yabbered non-stop. He snooped, and he played Ke… he played the piano. He nagged me about eating all the time and he wouldn't sit still for longer than two seconds. Drove me clear up the wall, Duck and that was just when he was sleeping."

"Mmm, it sounds as if he was acting very out of character," Ducky joked, wondering about the piano. He didn't know that Gibbs was musical and what was he going to say before he stopped himself? Could this have been the real reason for Jethro's ire at his young protégé; did he have a deep, dark secret that he felt Anthony might uncover?

The lad was an exceptional sleuth after all, and Gibbs was obsessive about maintaining his privacy. No one even knew the name of the mysterious redhead in the silver convertible that squired him around town.

"Be that as it may, my friend, I hope you'll allow me to make the following observation. You need to find him ASAP, but you already knew that.

When you do find him though, he is going to need a gentle hand. Think of him like a wild mustang that has permitted you to throw a saddle on his back and carry your weight but will never truly be tamed. If you try to force him to go home with you, he will cut and run and if he can't get away from you, you will break his spirit and lose him anyway. You are going to have to let him come to you and we will have to slowly rebuild the trust that we have all destroyed."

"Ya want me to read the Horse Whisperer too, Duck? DiNozzo's no dang horse, he's my senior field agent, damn it." Gibbs glared at him, sarcastically.

Ducky pursed his lips. "Mock me all you want Jethro but if you force that boy to stay with you out of a misplaced sense of guilt over him getting hurt, he will think it’s out of pity and he will resign.”

He eyed the former Marine shrewdly. “And none of us wants to see that happen; so you have to find some way of convincing him.”

Gibbs snorted, disparagingly. “And exactly how do ya recommend I do that, Duck?”

The medical examiner smirked before observing,. “I have the utmost faith that if anyone can, it is you. For some reason he seems determined to win your undying approval, so do not blow it."

~Left For Dead~

The bullpen was tense and frenetic as Gibbs and Cate searched in vain for their missing teammate. Abby was also helping with the search, whenever her forensic duties with the other NCIS teams allowed. Gibbs had talked to Dr Rodriguez, who had tried to convince Tony not to leave the hospital and he told the team leader that he has still been completing his intravenous antibiotics when he walked out. He assured the irate leader that he had insisted Tony take a prescription for oral antibiotics when he left and get it filled as a matter of urgency. Gibbs snorted sarcastically and muttered something about Hell freezing over.

Honestly, Gibbs concluded angrily, the chances of DiNozzo taking medication without someone holding a gun to his head, were next to nil. He had an extreme aversion to taking drugs, even over the counter variety and it was a battle every time he was hurt. There were times when he wondered if his senior field agent had a death wish since he seemed to attract trouble and injuries without even trying. Ducky felt that it wasn't suicidal tendencies that accounted for his alacrity in throwing his body into the line of fire and had hinted to him that it was more to do with DiNozzo's childhood, which he had described as less than stellar.

The ME had also lectured him after one incident when his agent had ended up with several cracked ribs for the first, though most definitely not the last time. Although in considerable pain, DiNozzo has categorically refused to take the prescribed analgesic drugs that the doctors had prescribed. According to Ducky, he was merely aping his mentor who as a hard-bitten Marine had disdain about the perceived weakness of needing drugs to endure pain. Gibbs had little time for Ducky's attempt to blame him for DiNozzo's stubbornness.

After all, he did his part, ordering the young idiot to take his medications and take care of himself. He adhered to the well-worn aphorism_\- do as I say, not as I do._ While a tiny portion of his brain whispered that he might bear some responsibility since he knew DiNozzo had a case of hero- worship going on, he ruthlessly pushed those doubts aside.

Telling Cate to expand the search and also check with the LOLs to see if they knew anything about his disappearance and whereabouts, he ignored her scowl as he headed toward the stairs, intending to head down to see if Duck and Abby had any bright ideas. When he was in the stairwell, Gibbs permitted himself a wry chuckle. He didn't envy Cate her task of talking with the LOLs.

They looked like a trio of sweet old ladies, but they had savaged Gibbs and his team for not taking care of DiNozzo and not taking him in when he needed a bed. Gibbs was well used to criticism and usually revelled in treating controversy with a glorious contempt for his critics but somehow, those three elderly yet formidable women, made him feel like a naughty schoolboy and it was not a feeling that he enjoyed. Needless to say, it pissed him off, big time and sent him searching for oblivion with his best buddy Jack.

Unfortunately, when he went down to see Ducky and give him an update on their search, he had no fresh idea's either. However, he scoffed when Gibbs shared their psychological profiler's contribution that he might head home to his parents in Long Island, NY.

"Really Jethro, Ms Todd's abilities aren't up to scratch if she hasn't picked up that Anthony is estranged from his father. He rarely mentions him and when he does it is usually something rather perturbing, even if it is cloaked in humour. Anthony has done a good job of snowing our Cate, I'm afraid. I am fairly confident that our boy would even seek you out before he would go crawling off back to his father."

Gibbs scowled at his friend’s jab. In regard to his father, Jethro didn't have anything to go on apart from his gut that told him that Anthony DiNozzo Senior wasn't fit to shine his son's boots. He'd welcome the opportunity for at least five minutes to tell him that to the asswipe’s face too. "Gee thanks, Duck. I'm one step above that piece of crap, according to you. With friends like you…"

"Don't be dense, dear boy. I merely meant that at the moment, since Anthony is running away from you, you're probably one of the last people he intends on approaching, even if he idolises you to death," Ducky hastened to soothe his fractious colleague.

Proving that this episode had managed to rattle the equilibrium of the big tough Marine, he did a one-eighty degree turn that would have wrong-footed someone who wasn't as mentally agile as the mature pathologist. "If he idolises me, as you say, then why is he running away from the hospital to get away from me, Duck? Doesn't sound like a case of hero-worship to me."

Sighing, Ducky patiently explained it once again. "We hurt him, Jethro, all of us, including you. Knowing how he blames himself for the ills of the world and the sordid mess with Cate and Suzanne McNeill surely exemplifies that amply. He has managed to twist our less than charitable behaviour around to blame himself.

“And before you ask why, it is because he can't bear to blame us for our unkindness since he thinks of us as his family. It is much less emotionally confronting for it to be his fault since he is already used to being blamed for everything. He no doubt had little difficulty convincing himself that the reason we turned him down is that he is too weak or worthless for us to bother with him.”

Sounding indescribably guilty the ME concluded, “So it follows that Anthony needs to prove himself to us by showing he can be strong and independent."

"How can such a savvy investigator be so stupid?" Gibbs demanded irritably.

Ducky glowered, his usually benign blue eyes, full of fire. "I suspect your gut has already supplied you with the answer. Someone important to that young man convinced him that he wasn't worthy of being loved and nurtured, probably when he was still a lad. Taught him he was weak and that he was to blame, whenever something bad happened. Instilled in him the belief that his needs, his life is less important than others and it probably happened when his character was forming a long time ago. As you Americans are so fond of saying, _you do the Math…"_

The ringing of Gibbs phone interrupted the medical examiner mid-rant and the agent held up his hand, indicating that he needed to take the call. "Yes Director, I'll be right up." He flipped the phone shut and slipped it back into his pocket, sighing. "Gotta go Duck. Let me know if you come up with anything better than calling Senior, will ya?" His eyes twinkled briefly as he confided, "Cate's calling on the LOLs to see if he's hiding out with them."

"Oh my, Gibbs, I must say, rather her than me. Especially if they don't know that he's gone AWOL from the hospital. Those formidable women will rip her to shreds."

"Why'd ya think I made her call on them without me?" The big bad Marine quipped as he hot-footed it out of Autopsy.


	5. Sent to the Basement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morrow gives Gibbs some news, orders and advice about DiNozzo and Abby engages in some soul searching.

Director Tom Morrow sat at his desk, examining the fax that he held in his hand, surprised by what he'd heard and read and waiting impatiently for Gibbs to appear and explain what the hell he was doing. Knowing that his Supervisory Special Agent hardly never bothered to knock, he wasn't shocked when he looked up to find that Jethro was standing in front of him, smirking slightly.

“Don’t stand on ceremony on my account, Agent Gibbs. Do come in and make yourself at home,” he said facetiously. “Oh, wait a minute, you already have." 

Gibbs didn’t even bother to act contrite at the rap over the knuckles, merely smirked at his superior which was hardly surprising. The bastard took a perverse pleasure in skulking around and ambushing people. Today though, karma was stalking him. He was about to be the one who got caught off guard. 

"Gibbs, are you working on anything interesting at the moment?" he asked the agent, who was looking decidedly frazzled despite his momentary victory.

"No, not really, Director. Just catching up with paperwork and cold cases. "

"Mmm, how's DiNozzo doing?" Morrow stared at the head of the Major Case Response Team penetratingly.

"He's much better, out of ICU a couple of days ago. He'll be on desk duty for a while when he comes back, but the doctors are hopeful he'll make a full recovery."

"I see, well that's good news. He was in ICU for quite a while,” Morrow observed. “By the way, I had already placed a commendation in his file for going to the aid of that young girl. Turns out she is the granddaughter of a decorated admiral. Her mother took up with some sleazy boyfriend who started molesting her daughter, so not surprisingly, she ran away and ended up living on the streets. Admiral Jerome wants to personally thank our hero when he's feeling up to it."

"I'll let him know, Tom. Hopefully, the Fibbies will catch those dirtbags soon, but since the girl is related to an admiral and DiNozzo is an NCIS agent, surely that should be reason enough for us to take over the case. Especially since they haven't caught them yet?" Gibbs pressured his boss, hopeful since he had railed against handing over the case to the FBI in the first place, especially as it wasn't Fornell handling the investigation.

"Maybe, Gibbs, I'll talk to SecNav about it. Now, are you sure there isn’t something that you want to tell me?" The NCIS director saw a minuscule flicker of something close to panic flash across the team leader's face, but only because he knew him so well. Gibbs always had a good game face going on.

"No, Director. No active cases, currently."

"Yet Agent Todd and you are seemingly very busy, Jethro. It wouldn't have anything to do with Special Agent DiNozzo's frantic escape from the hospital against medical advice, would it?" He was rather pleased to see Gibbs’ brief look of surprise before he schooled his features into his familiar scowl.

"How did you hear about that, Tom?" he countered.

The director handed him the fax he had been perusing. "Well, when I am contacted by DiNozzo's lawyer, who apparently also holds his power of attorney, and he warns us to back off harassing his client or he'll take out a restraining order, I tend to take a personal interest in the situation,” he responded drolly.

“I really wish that I had been read in on the situation, Agent Gibbs. I felt like an idiot when Mr. Adler complained that you had driven DiNozzo into fleeing from medical care against his doctors' advice. He apparently collapsed shortly after deplaning from his flight to New York. He's back in hospital again, which is probably a good thing, all things considered." He stared at Gibbs who looked like he was ready to bolt.

"Jethro, you are not to go chasing to New York after him, is that clear?" He could see Gibbs getting that, _no one is going to tell me what I can or can't do_ look.

"I have to, Director. I'm his medical proxy."

"No, Gibbs. Adler has called in some favours with a judge and currently, he has replaced you as his medical proxy, I'm afraid, and he doesn't want you to go near DiNozzo. So, I'm ordering you to stay the hell away from him for the time being. Park your ass in that chair and tell me what you did to your agent that had him high tailing it out of the hospital and DC like a scalded cat."

"Why the devil does everyone blame me for DiNozzo running away?" Gibbs yelled; kicking the trash can in a juvenile display of anger.

Gibbs' out of proportion reaction to a mild accusation, especially in light of his previous history and inability to control himself, merely confirmed Morrow’s suspicions about what had gone on and whose fault it would be.

Morrow grinned at him, "Because we know you too well, Jethro. You're not exactly renowned for your people skills, let's be honest," he said bluntly. "C'mon, man, let's see what damage you've done this time and how we are gonna fix it, shall we?" He knew that Gibbs would know that it wasn't really a request, even if his superior had couched it that way, to soothe his dignity.

Gibbs huffed exasperatedly, falling into the chair. "All I did was tell DiNozzo he was coming back to my place when he was released from the hospital since his apartment wasn't ready to be moved back into for a couple more weeks and he needed someplace to stay that was warm and had electricity. Why the hell is it such a crime, damn it? I'm just looking out for my team; it's my job."

"Did you offer Tony a place to stay or did you order him to come and stay with you, Jethro, because it matters?"

Gibbs shrugged. "I told him, Tom; just like I have told him to do stuff hundreds of times before. He knows. My team my rules. He's known it since I took him on two and a half years ago. Don't see the problem."

"Maybe so, Gibbs, although I'm not surprised with such a high-handed arrogant attitude, why you have problems keeping agents on your team. I wouldn't stand for it. But be that as it may, I'd wager a guess that the fact that DiNozzo took off was due to you previously telling him you didn't want him staying at your place might be an issue." He noticed Gibbs’ expression. 

"What, Jethro, you're not the only one who sneaks around listening to water cooler gossip or scuttlebutt. I may not be a bad assed Marine, but I have done my share of covert ops too. And I know that Tony is one stubborn SOB. He has to be to stand up to you, old friend." He smiled to rob the words of offence; he needed Gibbs to see sense.

“I’ve observed that Tony doesn't like you treating him kindly and while I have suspicions about why that might be, I think that after refusing his request when he first made it, he feels the only reason you would drag him home is out of pity, Gibbs, and he will not tolerate that. He doesn't understand you are really acting out of guilt." The director stifled a laugh at the Marine's look of murderous outrage; unaware he was reiterating what Ducky had said previously.

"You know, Jethro, if you’d just apologized for being such an ass hat and then asked him nicely to come home with you, this all might have been averted." Morrow noticed Gibbs opening his mouth and beat him to it.

"Yeah, yeah… I know, it goes against your precious rules, but this is one of mine that served me well over the years and if you weren’t such a pig-headed bastard, you’d take it on board. Anyway, my rule is that apologies take strength of character to give, particularly when you're wrong, but it's worth the pain. And let me be very clear here. You. Were. Wrong.”

Tom looked at his truculent subordinate who as sitting with his jaw clenched and his eyes expressing his fury at his rules being questioned. Not a scenario that he as accustomed to.

The director shook his head. “Anyway, what’s done is done! The question is, have you finally managed to chase away a very gifted investigator? If you have, you will have invoked the deep displeasure of your director and I suspect the rest of the staff too, especially all the ladies."

Gibbs growled, not wanting to concede that Morrow had a point. "So, what do you recommend I do, Director?"

Ignoring the sarcasm, he replied in all seriousness, "Something that you'll find extremely difficult, I fear, Gibbs. Back off and respect his wishes. Give Tony some breathing space.”

Seeing that Gibbs was about to argue or defy him, he used his director’s voice, the steely- toned one which brooked no dispute, not if you had a brain. “Honestly, with Adler on your ass, you really don't have a choice. Word about town is the guy’s an apex predator and he’s also DiNozzo’s frat brother. If you try and drag his client back here to DC and force him to stay with you, he’ll have you for breakfast.

Anticipating that Gibbs was about to argue with his assessment, Morrow forestalled him. “More to the point, DiNozzo will take off for sure and we'll lose our agent. Too late to lock the stable door, Gunny; your horse has already bolted."

Gibbs exploded, "What is it with everyone comparing DiNozzo to a horse?"

Morrow just stared at him. "Go home tonight, Gibbs, and work on your boat or get yourself soused if you must, but back off and figure out how you're all going to regain his trust when he comes back. If he does…" he warned ominously.

~ Left for Dead ~

Abby was readying herself for bed, her face scrubbed and fresh after the removal of her Goth make-up. Her eyes were red and swollen from hours of crying and she was exhausted, hoping that her brain would wind down and let her sleep. Tony was in hospital in New York, with only his Frat brother, Steve Adler to watch over him and they'd made him feel like he had to run away, just so that he didn't look and feel weak.

She knew better than most since he had told her some stories about his childhood, that his father had constantly berated him for being weak and useless. She knew that he felt driven, that he wouldn’t allow anyone to see him when he was vulnerable since he thought that it made him look weak. It was ironic that Tony had been attracted to working for a boss such as Gibbs who was equally loathe to show any vulnerabilities and who, like Tony’s father had rules to live by that involved not showing weakness to others.

Since Tony was incredibly brave, some people might argue stupidly so, and didn't need any egging on from her Silver Fox, she had made it her business to be a soft and loving friend and confidant. Something told her that despite having a string of stepmothers growing up after losing his mother when he was eight, none of them, even his mother had done even a remotely adequate job of giving him the nurturing he should have received. She had, very early on noticed how when she hugged him, he froze up like he didn't know what to do with her attention and so she made it her business to give him extra hugs to make up for all the ones he never got as a kid. At least now, he was learning how to not shrink away when she gave him one but Abby realised there'd been precious few in the last few months.

Since Cate had joined the team and she clicked with the newcomer, too late she’d realised that she'd been ganging up on Tony with her new gal pal, as well as excluding him altogether. Add to that unforgivable transgression, she'd been spending the rest of her spare time playing with her latest toyboy, Timmy, neglecting her good friend. Truly, if she was being really honest with herself, she had to admit that the fact that the geeky rookie from the Norfolk office got a tattoo on his ass simply to impress her; had been a huge turn on.

Since he was definitely not her usual type, she'd been intrigued to discover just what lengths he was willing to go to, to sleep with her. She was looking forward to convincing the way-too- tightly strung, goodie-two-shoes Timmy to make-out with her in her coffin in the not too distant future. She honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he was still a virgin.

So in between her ganging up on Tony with Cate and playing her power games with the geek, she had left Tony feeling excluded and abandoned and she knew that he already had issues with both, stemming way back to his childhood. Some good friend that made her. Then, when Tony told her in his little boy hurt voice, about Cate taking on a perfect stranger as a roomie, one that conceivably could be a mad bomber, purely so she wouldn't have to turn him down, she'd just laughed at him.

Even worse though, Abby had promptly forgotten all about it, never bothering to offer him a place to stay, assuming he knew that she would let him stay with her if he needed to. But looking back, she's made him think that he was yesterday's news and with his childhood of being sent away to boarding school, so his father could play nookie with his new wives, it didn't take much to trigger Tony's insecurities. No wonder he would think that he wouldn't be welcome to crash on her couch.

The worst thing about the way she and the team had treated him, was that instead of getting pissed off with them as he should have, he turned it all around and instead blamed himself for their lack of kindness. How was it possible to convince a kid that when people messed up it was always because of something he did? Honestly, listening to him sometimes, she got the feeling that he thought he never should have been born, which was a terrible way to live a life. Abby felt like such a dreadful person for turning her back on him, after treating him as a friend.

She knew that was much worse than the way that Cate treated him like he was a particularly distasteful piece of crap. Abby had convinced him she was his friend; that he mattered to her and was someone she truly valued and then she'd removed her support just when he was feeling like he was being replaced by Cate on the team. what a rotten thing to do.

Hence her remorse but she couldn't even go to him and hug him and tell him she screwed up since he was essentially lying all alone in a hospital bed in New York. She really hoped that he returned to DC soon, so she could start to make it up to him for being such a lousy friend. She decided to send him a text right now, letting him know that she cared about him and apologising for not having his back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to put into context that when I wrote this back in Feb 2013, most people saw the team as one big happy family so I wasn't quite as scathing about their interactions, at least not in stories. I was also extremely cynical about the prospects for the dynamic to change on the team which was reflected in my stories. Just saying... don't expect a HEA. People find change hard to maintain, even with the best of intentions.


	6. Jeopardy and Tofu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ducky and Cate examine their motives refusing to offer Tony a place to stay.

"Donald, where are you, Tyson needs to go walkies," Victoria Mallard called out to her long-suffering son, as she sat in front of the television watching her favourite episode of Jeopardy for the third time that night. Although she didn't remember that she had already watched it that many times, her offspring did and had taken refuge from Alex Trebeck's smiling visage and the questions that were so infuriatingly familiar he could recite them in his sleep. That being the case and not wanting to take his frustrations out on his elderly mother who was suffering from the ravages of Alzheimer's Disease, he had removed himself from the living room.

Ducky arose from his wing-backed chair in the den and laid aside his book with a sigh, deciding he'd take the entire corgi clan out to empty their bladders and bowels before they retired for the night and he grabbed up all their leashes. Ducky's whistling to call them to the front entrance, set off an inevitable cacophony, consisting of the scrabbling of stubby paws and an assortment of high-pitched yips and yaps. As he set off down the front steps with dogs in tow, he thought, not for the first time that he wished his mother had fallen in love with a breed that was less yappy and a little more masculine for him to exercise and cohabit with, perhaps Labradors or springer spaniels.

As he set off with the beasts, he chided himself, since the dogs were increasingly becoming her lifeline, as the dreaded disease robbed her of more and more of her memories every day. Who was he to begrudge the solace and comfort she found in these four-footed anarchists, he should be grateful to them for giving her so much companionship and affection since any remaining friends had stopped calling, unable to deal with the dramatic changes that age and infirmity had wrought upon her.

While he was a pragmatist, mostly thanks to his job, he sometimes couldn't help asking why a woman of such sharp intellect and wicked sense of humour as Victoria Eugenia Mallard would have to suffer the indignity of slowly losing her memories and ability to control her own destiny. Knowing that there was no rhyme or reason to the terrible disease that was increasingly striking at the very fibre of countless families, right across the country, he turned his thoughts instead to the conundrum that was currently threatening his friends and colleagues.

As he watched the corgi pack take off when he let them off the leash to stretch their stumpy little paws out and rough house around, he thought about his own cringe-worthy behaviour. Ducky wasn't sure what had prompted him to be so inordinately mean-spirited when Anthony had started hinting about staying at his place.

He tried to tell himself, it was his desire to spare his mother the stress and confusion of dealing with strangers since if she had full use of her faculties, she would hate for people to see her in this state of confusion. Victoria Mallard had always been an inordinately prideful woman, obsessive about her appearance and insistent on observing proper etiquette, no matter the circumstances.

Yes, he tried to assure himself that he had the noblest of intentions and had been merely acting as a dutiful son in protecting his beloved mother, just as he had convinced himself earlier today. Even so, a small voice, without a doubt his conscience, muttered constantly in the background, telling him his motives weren't so altruistic as he liked to believe.

It was true that even after a lifetime of living with a larger than life Victoria Mallard, after decades of tripping around the world, experiencing a life that was full of exotic adventures, after a career where he had served as a well-respected physician and a highly esteemed forensic pathologist, his mother still possessed the ability to embarrass the bejesus out of her much-cherished son. Now that Alzheimer's had taken his mother hostage, it had exaggerated her eccentricities manifold and he had to wonder if he was protecting her dignity or trying to protect his own reputation. Trying to avoid being embarrassed by her.

He knew that there was still very much of a stigma to Alzheimer's disease and dementia amongst the general population and he wondered if he was as immune to the ugly prejudice which still flourished as he would like to believe. Was it he was ashamed of his colleagues and friends knowing about his mother? While he’d considered himself an enlightened member of the medical fraternity, he hoped his less than charitable actions hadn’t been motivated by such base motives as embarrassment and shame, even if he feared that it had been.

As he called the little devils…er the corgis back to him to head home, Ducky resolved to invite Anthony to Reston House for lunch one weekend when he returned to work. He just hoped that the young man hadn't caused himself too much harm in his impulsive flight from their pathetic and very belated concern.

~ Left for Dead ~

Cate Todd finished soaking her rice noodles in boiling water before expertly flipping the sizzling hot wok to rotate the stir-fried veggies and tofu to finish cooking her dinner and thought back to her conversation today with Lillian Cramer. When Gibbs had ordered her to talk to Tony's 'grandmothers' to find out if they knew where he'd gone, she'd figured that Lil would be the best one to talk to, since she looked like such a sweet little old woman, but she was belatedly reminded of Gibbs' Rule # 8. She'd assumed, based on Lil's appearance and darn but she had the teeth marks to prove that the woman was actually a Rottweiler in disguise.

Lil had savaged her over the ‘Team’ not doing right by Tony. She blamed them for him being stabbed and that was before she discovered that Tony had signed himself out AMA from the hospital. Once the cat was out of the bag, the loony octogenarian had gone completely psycho on her. She'd unleashed such a tongue lashing on the unfortunate agent that even the most harridans of nuns who’d educated Cate as a child, would have stood in awe of the gentle-looking, blue-rinse granny. Unfortunately, at the end of the verbal flagellation, Cate still had no clearer idea of what had happened to DiNozzo to show for withstanding the punishment imposed by the sweet-looking granny.

Cate really hadn't been looking forward to returning to the office without some piece of information to placate Gibbs. Gee, if she thought he was an anal-retentive, type A personality with the developmental ability to delay gratification of a toddler; he had been even worse since DiNozzo had been hurt. Frankly, he was angry with everyone and Cate wasn't sure if it was because he was angry with himself or if it was due to him blaming them all for turning their backs on a fellow team member. Since Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a Marine to his very bootstraps, he took very seriously the maxim that you leave nobody behind.

Mind you, if he was annoyed with the rest of the team, it couldn't be any greater than Cate was feeling already. She was so busy beating herself up for making such a rookie mistake with Suzanne McNeill and exposing her deficiencies to Gibbs and DiNozzo that she hadn't bothered to see what was right in front of her nose.

She'd made a huge error in judgment about Jane Doe, but she'd made a much worse one with the senior field agent. She'd been working with him for weeks now and she had him pegged as a self- indulgent, chauvinistic jerk with the hide of a rhinoceros. Who'd know he'd be so precious…um sensitive or that he could somehow feel guilty for her nearly getting them all blown up by a crazy woman, bent on revenge.

As a profiler, she really had no excuse for not picking up on him blaming himself for her mistakes, except that she was wallowing.

She had been so superior when she joined the MCRT, confident that she belonged on the pre-eminent investigatory team in NCIS by reason of the fact that she was a seasoned Secret Service agent and an experienced profiler. To make such a rookie profiling error so soon after her lapse in judgement which resulted in her resigning from the Secret Service had her questioning herself and her ability to become a special agent on Gibbs’ team. It was a blow to her self-esteem; she wasn't used to failing and she didn't like it.

She had dropped the ball and sure, she hadn't stabbed Tony but the maxim of watching your partner's back was something to strive for and not just in the physical sense. As a profiler, she should have been aware that he was having a hard time emotionally, no excuses and having a hard time because of her actions no less!

As she slid her stir-fry veggies out of the wok and onto her plate along with some noodles, she winced as she recalled Lil pointing to her crucifix that she wore around her neck and regarding her with scorn. “Where was her charity when her co-worker needed somewhere to stay, she taunted her disdainfully? Was she just a Christian in name only, because she didn't think she was living up to the principles of her religion by her deeds, Missy?”

Yeah… Lil had actually called her Missy and made her feel only a couple of inches tall. Frankly, Cate who was always ready with a snarky comeback found that this time she had nothing to say to such a pertinent question.

She thought about Tony, driven to flee DC to New York to escape their clumsy attempts to make up for their earlier mean behaviour and try to make themselves feel better. Obviously, they'd left it too late and now he wasn't able to accept their help. She also wondered why, when she'd suggested that he'd simply headed back to the DiNozzo family mansion so that his parents could coddle him, Abby and Ducky had vehemently denied that this was a possibility. Cate got the idea that there was a story to be uncovered about Tony's parents, going by her colleagues' reactions, since if she was sick and needed coddling, she'd head straight home to her parents or her siblings to be spoilt rotten.

Hopefully she could discover what it was that he was hiding when he returned to work in a few weeks and she could find out why other people saw such a different side to him than she did. Ducky and Abby didn't strike her as individuals to suffer fools gladly, so their admiration and affection for DiNozzo must mean that he was much less shallow than she'd labelled him.

It was also pretty clear that there had to be a heck of a lot more to Tony than the chauvinist pig that she had observed since Rae, Lil and Carla positively doted on him. While they looked like sweet little old ladies, they weren't exactly pushovers. Even Gibbs and Ducky quaked when they were around the three strong females which was pretty funny. Especially when she wasn’t the focus of their considerable ire.


	7. Maudlin Marine Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gibbs works on his boat as ordered by Morrow as he takes a bourbon-fueled trip down memory lane - his favourite address and fulminates on the future.

Gibbs was down in his basement, sanding the ribs of his latest folly, and gulping rather than sipping from his best buddy, Jack. Not because he was following Tom's orders. Oh, hell no, he was down there because he wanted to be, no needed to be there, chasing mind-numbing oblivion from the overwhelming guilt that pursued him relentlessly. Guilt had been his constant companion ever since losing his family more than a decade and a half before and Jack Daniels was his faithful friend.

Now, as if he didn't have enough guilt to last a thousand lifetimes, he was trying to reconcile his role as Team Leader of the MCRT and his failure to watch DiNozzo's six. He couldn't even try to fix the problem since if he tried to approach Tony, that damned frat brother of his, Steven Adler, a pond-scum-sucking lawyer if ever he saw one, would take out a restraining order on him and that would invoke the considerable ire of his boss.

Getting rotten drunk seemed the only alternative available to him at this point and like every task he undertook, he approached it with a single-mindedness, determined to do it to the best of his ability. Getting shit-faced drunk couldn't come quickly enough but even if he was well on the way, his guilt wouldn't let up. '_Never leave a man behind' _was a principle that he truly lived by as a Marine and it didn't just refer to a body either but also the mind too.

On this occasion, he'd dropped the ball when it came to him watching out for DiNozzo. He'd failed to take into account Tony's absolute dedication to looking out for his teammates with a single-mindedness that rivalled Gibbs own personality, even when it wasn't reciprocated by his teammates.

When he'd rejected DiNozzo's request for assistance, instead of Tony blaming his team for being ass wipes, in his typical way, he’d turned it around to blame himself. If he hadn't thwarted Tony's natural response to try and help Cate, he might not have done such a hatchet job on himself and ended up in the hospital. It made him mad to think about how Tony's default setting was to blame himself.

Gibbs recognised that he possessed a deep vein of self-loathing because of his inability to save the lives of his wife and only child. He found it difficult to accept though that such a young and promising agent as DiNozzo could possess such an intense, deep-seated self-hatred.

After all, he had so much going for him and Jethro wondered if he was also somewhat resentful of Tony? He'd been brought up in the lap of luxury, educated at the finest schools and had risen to the heady heights of a sporting hero during his sojourn at college. He had rapidly risen through the ranks of the Police Department - winning a Gold Shield at a ridiculously young age due to his freakish investigative abilities, abilities which likewise earned the attention of Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

His senior field agent possessed good looks and despite his attempts to appear otherwise, a keen intellect was well-spoken and well-read. On occasion he slipped up, correcting people's grammar, which was a dead give-away that he wasn't the dumb jock he liked to portray. He also had charm and the ability to seduce almost anyone possessing an XX chromosome as well as having quite a few male admirers, nor did he want for buddies either. And for all that he acted like the world's biggest jerk or the village idiot; nearly everybody had a soft spot for him.

Certainly, the entire staff at the Naval Yard seemed to stop by the bullpen daily, to enquire about his condition whenever he was sick or hurt. He'd had a heap of neighbours turning up at the hospital to see him as word of his attack had spread until Doctor Rodriguez had to restrict his visitors since every man and his dog took to stopping by.

So, did he feel like DiNozzo had no right to harbour such dark self-destructive tendencies?

If he was being totally honest with himself, Jethro probably did resent him. As a Marine, he had gone to war to defend his country's liberty and way of life and the fact was that he'd paid the ultimate price for performing his duty and lost everything that he held dear. Gibbs’ loss… well, his grief was a talisman that he wore with a sense of entitlement. Although he knew that DiNozzo had lost his mother when he was eight, Jethro had lost his mother too. Besides, he’d had multiple stepmothers, unlike Gibbs who’d lost the person who believed in him.

So, he told himself that the ex-cop didn't have the right to be so self- indulgent, so damned entitled, unlike himself.

Being honest, he also sometimes resented DiNozzo's ability to compartmentalize and make those people around him feel better, even if he was battling the black dog of depression. Gibbs, on the other hand, had always felt that if he was suffering, there was no reason why those around him should be happy, either.

Yet as Ducky had alluded to down in Autopsy today, they both strongly suspected that DiNozzo had experienced a childhood filled with neglect and abuse. His background was more than likely on par with a lot of the dirtbags he arrested, and he'd still chosen a life of protecting the weak and refusing to use his misfortune as a crutch.

He was obsessively private about his family background and childhood and when forced to reveal anything personal, would invariably turn it into a funny story, even if it was a crime, like being abandoned for two days in a hotel by his father. He certainly didn’t walk around with a big chip on his shoulder.

Gibbs took a healthy slug of bourbon, desperate to escape the unpleasant thoughts that had taken up residence in his head. Tony might accuse him of being a functional mute and given that he had three failed marriages, it was hard to argue with his observation; it didn't mean that he was without feelings though. Granted that mostly they inspired anger or the desire for revenge, it didn't mean that he wasn't overwhelmed by self-recriminations and doubts. Honestly, tonight he wished that he wasn't feeling the mass of emotions that beset him because all he longed for was a state of numbness.

Yet, he kept returning to the question his wily old friend had asked him today. Such an innocent query- what had DiNozzo done when he'd stayed with him six months ago, that was so unforgivable anyway? Even to his ears as he was extolling Tony's numerous transgressions to Ducky, it had sounded incredibly petty and weak. Particularly if you considered that they were the same qualities that he displayed regularly on the job and made him a force to be reckoned with as an investigator.

Even if he tried to rationalise his responses by telling himself that he craved privacy and solitude when he went home at night; that a man's home was his castle and he was entitled to protect it, it still sounded incredibly petty and yes superficial. Yet, he knew that wasn't the real reason why he had initially refused his 2IC a bed when he’d learnt he was homeless.

When Tony had played his dead daughter Kelly's piano, and damn the man, who knew he could play anyway, Gibbs had become apoplectic with a fury that he couldn't hide. He'd seen the questions that had immediately arisen as a result of the piano incident, as Tony regarded him shrewdly and compassionately. Knowing the perspicacity of DiNozzo’s investigative streak, Gibbs was frantic to conceal the secret that he'd preserved for more than a decade and a half.

Gibbs was beyond desperate to keep Shannon and Kelly a secret. He told himself that by keeping their existence and their deaths at the hand of a drug baron a secret, he was holding onto the last precious link to his family that he still possessed. Yet his devil's advocate argued that the real reason he wasn't willing to share their existence with his friends and colleagues was the same reason he had cut himself off from his old Marine buddies and comrades.

His brothers-in-arms had encouraged him, entreated him actually, and even resorted to nagging and bullying him to resolve his grief and stop blaming himself for Shannon and Kelly's deaths and instead, to live his life as a testament to his family. They argued gently at first and then more and more forcefully, that Shannon and Kelly wouldn't want to see him turn into an embittered and angry person, alone with only memories to keep him company. Reacting violently to their attempts to pull him out of his self-imposed Hell, he had countered angrily by cutting his ties with anyone and everyone who knew about his family, opting for a fresh start where people couldn't stick their nose in his business and try and make him feel better about the loss he had suffered.

Gibbs didn't want to feel better. He didn't deserve to experience peace or happiness, which was probably why even when he found someone to share his life with, he couldn't let himself be happy. Either he'd self-sabotaged the marriages or his ex-wives had gotten too close to discovering what it was he was keeping from them and he'd driven them away in retribution for poking their noses into his business. Either way, he always ended up alone, spending his time working on his boat and drinking bourbon in his basement in splendid isolation.

Truth be told, he’d gotten used to being alone and in pain, he was at peace with it and anything that threatened the status quo made him want to lash out, violently.

Honestly, while a very tiny part of him did long for happiness again, a much more determined part of him wanted to keep punishing himself for surviving when his beloved daughter and wife had not. Indeed, the pain of his loss had become his last tangible link to them, and he worried that if he didn't feel the pain, loss and grief anymore, that it would be proof that he didn't love them enough. That he’d forgotten them, but he also knew that was just a part of the equation though.

The truth was that over the years, his guilt, anger and a burning need for vengeance had come to define him, maybe not in a good way but he was who he was, and Gibbs was comfortable with it now. He was afraid that without the vengeance, he would be a shadow of his former self. He'd gotten used to acting the bastard (with two Bs) and he wasn't sure he would know how to be anymore without the overwhelming guilt as his crutch. It was a welcome method of punishing himself for his inability to protect his girls and he had no intention of letting go of that pain or seeking a cure, even if he knew how.

So, when Tony had threatened the comfortable world that he had created for himself, he had reacted with a ruthlessness to protect himself, his girls and his life. Just the thought of DiNozzo having unfettered access to Gibbs’ deepest secrets had sent the former Gunny into self-preservation mode like a wounded animal. To hell with his responsibilities as team-leader or the fact that Tony had already saved his ass on too many occasions to count.

So, because of an obsessive need for privacy, he had let his agent down spectacularly and now they were both paying a heavy price for his failure to let go of the past. He couldn't even see him and make sure he was okay. Shit-faced-drunk couldn't come fast enough to numb Jethro’s thoughts and emotions.


	8. Facing the Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DiNozzo returns to work hoping he still has a job.

Seventeen days later:

Tony stepped off the elevator and into the deserted bullpen which, given that it was barely 0500 hours, wasn't all that surprising but he thought he'd at least have to face the on-duty team that handled the night shift. So, with a sigh of relief, he got himself situated and comfortable at his desk and started sorting through his emails and memos, checking on paperwork to see if there was anything outstanding.

Either Gibbs or Cate would have completed it in his absence, or a TAD would have done so. Whoever did it there were bound to be errors, so he wanted to set them to rights while it all was still calm, and errors could be corrected before it was too late. When his team arrived, there was bound to be fireworks about him taking off and Steve's rather dramatic throwing his weight around, courtesy of his power of attorney. Threatening Gibbs and the agency – what the hell was Adler thinking?

When Tony was compos mentis enough to be aware of what his frat brother was up to, the damage had already been done. He'd called the Director when he came back to DC yesterday, to apologise profusely for his lawyer and to see if he still had a job. He was surprised that Tom Morrow had been rather amused by Steve. That was pretty fortunate, since while he was laid low by a variety of drugs, pain and overexertion, Steve had tried to launch a lawsuit to sue the agency and Gibbs, to recover the cost incurred for his medical expenses when he signed out of the hospital AMA, since his health insurance refused to pay.

At least that was one mystery solved; Gibbs wore Sear's clothes because he was flat out broke after all the occasions, he’d left hospital AMA. Next time Tony was injured he'd remember to sweet talk his way out rather than emulate the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs; he had no intention of wearing anything from Sears in the future… or ever.

Tony couldn't believe that Steve was claiming that Tony hadn't been in his right mind when he signed out because his boss was threatening to unlawfully imprison him, forcing him to flee the hospital in fear and run off to New York to escape. It made him sound like some weak and whiny victim. As soon as he heard about the lawsuit, he'd nixed it and torn Steve a new one for pulling that shit on his behalf. He appreciated his Frat brother looking out for him, but he wasn't going to blame other people for his messes or expect people to fix them for him.

Luckily, Director Morrow didn't seem to bear grudges. Nor did he seem to have the same pathological hatred of lawyers as Gibbs, either.

Morrow had assured Tony that he still had a job to return too and that he'd look forward to seeing him again, next week. When Tony had asked if he would be assigned to the cold case squad, Morrow had laughed uproariously, before declaring that he was still Gibbs’ senior field agent. Then, before he hung up, the Director told him that the girl he'd saved was the granddaughter of an Admiral who was buddies with SecNav and they'd pulled some strings and called in favours to have his injury reclassified as NCIS related. Somehow, they also persuaded the health insurance company to take care of the bill, no doubt thanks to friends in high places.

Knowing that the Director would inform Gibbs that he was returning on Monday and reassured that he still had his job, he decided to return today and catch everyone unawares. While his doctor in New York had recommended that he not return to work for a further few days, he had not expressly forbidden it, so Tony wouldn't get any grief from the HR department or even worse, Abby or Ducky. If he waited ‘til Monday, Gibbs would be prepared. Tony might act like the class clown, but he knew that he would end up paying for his disappearance and for ignoring Gibbs' Rule #3. Tony sure as Hell wasn't about to make it any easier for the Boss to chew his ass off over it.

Apart from the tactical reasons for returning prematurely, Tony was simply bored out of his skull and needed to occupy his brain with something other than movies or music. Yes, even if it involved dealing with a boss who made Attila the Hun look like a warm and fuzzy commander by comparison and a huge side order of paperwork. Besides his imagination kept coming up with more and more extreme punishments which Gibbs would inflict on him; better to get it over and done with.

He was deep into the monthly requisitions when he mused that it was lucky that he'd checked them out since someone (Gibbs or Todd) had ordered 2 boxes of gloves instead of 20 and they’d also failed to order the ten spare cell phones that Gibbs managed on average to destroy every other month. While most mere mortals working at the agency who had a work phone supplied, had to jump through all manner of hoops and red tape to requisition a new one should it break or get lost, Director Morrow had granted Tony special dispensation to order new cell phones bi-monthly.

Working with Gibbs (who had a pathological fear of technology and tended to vent his fury in a rather physical fashion) murdering many innocent cell phones along the way, meant that it was necessary for Tony to keep a ready supply in his filing cabinet. He hoped that Cate had paid attention to where they lived but hopefully Pacci or someone else would have enlightened her when his phone needed a reboot (otherwise known as chucking it in the bin and placing the SIM card into a new cell phone).

Ordering the spare phones and making several other minor alterations, he never noticed Chris' team who was obviously pulling night duty this week, had come back into the bullpen. Feeling several pairs of eyes on him, he took a deep breath and looked up expecting to see the angry features of Gibbs and Cate glaring at him. Instead, he was greeted by the friendly grins of Chris and his team, all seeming to be happy to see him again. After being slapped on the back and handshakes all round, Chris quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Thought you weren't supposed to start back ‘til Monday, Tony?"

He laughed somewhat uncomfortably. "Since when have you known me to do anything that I was supposed to, Chris?"

"That's very true, DiNozzo," a familiar voice stated, dryly. "You cleared for duty or is this an early morning social call?"

Tony rolled his eyes at Pacci before plastering one of his fake grins across his face as he turned around to face his boss. "Hey, Gibbs, nuh I'm back and while the doc's not jumping for joy about me coming today, he has okayed it. Already left the paperwork in Director Morrow's office…Well, I guess I better get back to work."

He sat back down and stole a glance at his boss to see how he was coping with his return and was relieved to see that Gibbs didn't look like he was ready to strangle him…yet. In fact, Gibbs looked a tad uncomfortable and Tony congratulated himself on catching the Marine sniper unawares.

Oh, he was under no illusion that in the longer term, he'd still pay and pay big time for disobeying Gibbs’ orders and not following Rule # 3, always be contactable. However, today he ascribed to the philosophy that it was better to put off a Gibbs dressing down and punishment for as long as you could.

As he checked through the month-long worth of paperwork, emails and inter-agency and intra-agency memos and alerts, he could feel Gibbs staring at him. He'd very carefully set up his workspace so that between multiple monitors that were great reflectors and a couple of discreet miniature mirrors, he could always surreptitiously watch Gibbs when he was anywhere in the bullpen. Being able to monitor his state of mind was paramount, so he could always intervene before things escalated from tense to catastrophic. Watching Gibbs sneakily, he was surprised to see the boss looking rather sheepish which was shocking enough but shortly after when Gibbs headed off for a coffee, he floored him by returning and placing a tea on Tony's desk.

On the rare occasion, he'd sprung for a coffee for his senior field agent when he'd been such an ass that he really needed to apologise and since he didn't do apologies, the coffee had been offered in lieu thereof. The fact that the coffee had been black and strong enough to strip paint had not detracted from the fact that Gibbs with two Bs for bastard had bought him a beverage. Ordering him a cup of tea with lemon and honey though, was tantamount to a belly grovel from his boss and Tony was gobsmacked.

He was less surprised though by the directive that was delivered with the tea. "Make sure you report to Ducky after he has a chance to digest your medical clearance and doctor's reports, Tony." Gibbs paused and looked like he was swallowing glass before managing, "Glad you're back and make sure you take a break at lunchtime."

Tony wasn't fooled by kindly Gibbs. He knew that he would have to pay the price for his disobedience sooner or later, maybe not today or next week, but one day, in the not too distant future, his boss would exact his revenge. Gibbs had a memory like an elephant, but it had been worth it. Even though the price had been disregarding Gibbs’ orders he had no other choice to prove to him, that he wasn't weak, pitiful or needed rescuing. Prove to him that he could still do his job and be on the team. He'd sucked it up and take the kick in the ass like a man. Hopefully, he'd proved to them all that he was more than just a whiny, needy pain in the butt who needed his hand held when he screwed up.

Granted that taking off to New York could be construed as running away, but he had nowhere else to go and he needed somewhere to stay after he left the hospital since he couldn't stay at his apartment anymore. Once they knew, they’d have just come and dragged him back out again.

He'd headed to New York because Steve was working for six months at his father's law firm, filling in for someone on leave and it seemed like a perfect place to hide from Gibbs. Of course, if Steve hadn't given up his apartment and stored his stuff at Tony's he could have stayed at his place, problem solved, but things were never that easy. Getting away had also allowed him to build up his defensive walls again so he didn't go all weak and cave into Gibbs’ demands for him to go to stay with him.

Yet how would he respect Tony if he’d capitulated like a little kid; that definitely wasn't the way to reassure his boss that he was still up to the role of senior field agent? His job demanded that he not yield to Gibbs when the boss was acting over the top, so he needed to prove he could stand up to him. Sure, it'd almost ended up killing him to prove he didn't need help but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. His father was right about one thing - it didn't matter how much you were hurting, as long as you never let anyone know.

When Cate came in later that morning she stopped and did a double-take before dropping her bag on her desk and coming over to say hello and ask how he was doing. He guessed she’d been caught with her pants down, so to speak since he'd expected lots of snarky comments about him running off and ignoring Rule #3, but like Gibbs she never mentioned it. Actually, she looked tired and pretty frazzled if he was being brutally honest and he wondered if she was still upset about Suzanne McNeil.

It simply never occurred to him that she was looking rough because she'd been left alone for practically a month with Gibbs, or that he would be even more of a bastard than usual because Tony wasn't there

So, because he felt partial responsibility for her screw-up, he went into mother hen mode. Despite what Gibbs said, if she was still struggling to deal with that case after all this time, he wasn't going to stand by the sidelines and watch their newest probie beat herself up over it. Not this time.

She had to learn from it and move on or else she would end up making more mistakes and they could easily be fatal ones. It wouldn't be the first time Tony had seen it happen. Introspection was a fine thing but if you over-analysed every minute detail of your mistakes on cases, you ended up creating inertia that was counter-productive.

Tony kept checking up on Cate, continuously monitoring her at her desk every five minutes and sans the usual jokes, teasing and movie references, he, unfortunately, ended up making her downright antsy. Finally getting up and stalking over to his desk, she seemed to psych herself up as she took a deep breath.

"Tony?"

"Mm."

Cate looked pained. "I'm sorry."

Tony looked around, alarmed. "Shh Cate," he hissed at her, "You should know by now what Gibbs says about apologies." He really didn't want to piss Gibbs off, not since he was in such a benign mood so far today. It as a rare luxury and he wanted to savour the moment.

"Shut up will you, Tony? I'm trying to apologise to you for not wanting you to stay at my place. It wasn't very nice of me." Cate admitted grudgingly.

Tony shook his head. "No Catie, I don't blame you for not wanting me to stay. Lots of people think I'm a pain in the butt, it’s not just you, so it must be me. So ya see, you've got nothing to be sorry for."

"Darn it DiNozzo, will you let me apologise for heaven's sake."

"No Cate, I told you there was nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who should be sorry for making you feel bad. Are you okay?” He asked, concerned. “You looked a bit frazzled. You do know it wasn't your fault about Suzanne? None of us suspected she had a bomb."

"But you knew that she had her memory back when we arrived at BFF." She pointed out, aggrieved. "And I wouldn't listen."

Tony smiled kindly, not realising that he was infuriating the probie since she took it as condescension, male patriarchal arrogance to be precise. "I might have suspected but I didn't know for sure."

"But I didn't even think to suspect her, I believed everything she told me, hook line and sinker." Unspoken between them was the statement _and I'm a profiler._

Tony stared at her, concerned but at a loss to know how to make her feel better since he was trying very hard to adopt a new Tony DiNozzo persona and he still wasn't entirely sure how the new, improved Tony should act. He only knew that he shouldn't be like the old Tony.

"We all make mistakes, give yourself a break. It's a good thing to see the good in people, JUST not in our job. So, we have to suspect everyone, which kinda sucks." He tried to comfort her even if she didn’t appreciate it.

If he wasn't restricted to desk duty, he'd take her downstairs and spar with her in the gym since she liked showing off her superior Secret Service protection skills by wiping the floor with him, but that wasn't an option. Searching around for an alternative form of distraction and solace, receiving inspiration of some sort. He rifled through his desk drawer. "Do you want a cup of coffee? Here, have a Twinkie or a Hershey bar," he offered, foisting them on Cate.

"Stop it DiNozzo," she raised her voice, going to elbow him in the gut and stopping herself with difficulty since he still healing. "Are you trying to make me fat or break out in zits, giving me that crap because I swear, I'll kick your butt, Tony? Just let me apologise, for crying out loud. Stop being an ass."

Tony smiled, pleased to see that Cate was sounding more like her usual self already, although he made a mental note not to offer her Twinkies or candy bars again. He'd stock up on disgustingly healthy granola bars and sugar-free carob just as soon as possible. And assure her that she could never be fat and had a glowing complexion.

Mm, perhaps he could ask Paula Cassidy to give her some words of support since he knew that Cate was uncomfortable being vulnerable around male agents. He remembered how Chris had buddied up to him when he joined NCIS.

Gibbs didn't do warm and fuzzy and the rest of the agents either wrote him off as a superficial show pony that wouldn't last three months or was convinced that he'd used his family name and money to pull strings. As much as a place on Gibbs team was coveted, it was also considered something of a poisoned chalice too, but it didn't stop a lot of the jealousy that was directed at him when he rocked up from Baltimore.

_Just a simple cop_ was the consensus in the bullpen and Tony had immediately felt the chill, as his colleagues sent him to Coventry. Chris had shown him around the office, given him insider Intel on living in D.C. and just simply offered a much needed and valued lifeline that helped him make it through the first difficult weeks in his new job. Vowing to call the female agent asap, he decided to get back to his catching up.

Now he only needed to face Ducky and Abby and he didn't think that they would give him too hard a time. Ducky would probably give him the 'look' the one that was full of compassion and disappointment and he'd say, "Oh Anthony," and proceed to deliver a lecture on the need for him to take more care.

And Abby, well she hadn't been happy about his flight to New York, but she’d sent him a text, so he knew that they were still friends. Remembering the care packages full of soft foods like chocolate mousse and chocolate truffles that she'd organised to have delivered to him at the hospital and at Steve's apartment because of his sore jaw, he reciprocated by sending her a dozen black roses and an IOU for Caf-Pows.

Pulling out his phone and scrolling through ‘til he found the saved text she had sent the night he fled to New York, he read it again smiling:

**I suck as a BFF**

**Luv u 2bits**

**Come home! Pleeeeease?**

**OX 4eva**

** Dark Goth Angel **

They'd exchanged a few emails and she'd sent copious amounts of texts and he'd talked to her once or twice, so he figured it was all good. She wouldn’t kill him for disobeying Gibbs and making him angry. At least not this time.


	9. Staff Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team sans Tony have a meeting to discuss his new work persona and how to fix what they broke. Ducky breaks out his chocolate digestive biscuits.

Gibbs had ordered Tony drive their dead petty officer's mother home since Ducky had cautioned the SSA not to let the grief-stricken woman drive as she was too distraught. Although DiNozzo was still on desk duties and would be for several more weeks, Gibbs knew that his normally active senior field agent was getting cabin fever, despite only being back for three days. Generally, when confined to desk duty, he became bored very quickly and a bored DiNozzo always meant trouble for the entire bullpen. Yet most disturbingly, there had been none of the boredom-busting strategies they'd come to expect from a bored out of his mind Tony DiNozzo.

Frankly, everyone was on edge, barely able to concentrate, expecting marathon monologues about obscure and popular movies and how they related to the most mundane of details. Then there was the teasing of Cate to the point of distraction until she snapped and lost her temper, except that Tony remained conspicuously silent, even when Cate gave him an opening on numerous occasions before she would give up in a huff. And go back to her desk. They expected him to pull his usual outrageous pranks involving the whole bullpen or to break into an eclectic barrage of songs that seemed to have been selected purely to be as annoying and kitsch as possible and to stick around in your head interminably.

And yet, nothing!

Tony remained uncharacteristically quiet and restrained which should have been a relief to his colleagues, yet the whole floor was in a fluster trying to anticipate when Tony would unleash his … well, his Tony-ness as Abby called it. The suspense was excruciating, and it had become so agonising that people couldn't concentrate and were complaining about Tony preventing them from being able to work effectively, which was rather ironic. In the interests of NCIS productivity, Gibbs had bent the rules slightly and sent him off to play chauffeur, getting him out of the office and everyone's hair.

That wasn't the only reason why Gibbs had wanted Tony out of the office. He wanted to have a team meeting about him and obviously didn't want his agent around while they were discussing him. Cate, Ducky, Abby and Gibbs had convened in Abby's lab and Ducky had had the foresight to send his assistant Gerald on a coffee run and the medical examiner had raided his supply of chocolate digestives since he'd had a premonition this wasn't going to be a warm and fuzzy get-together. A little chocolate to increase serotonin levels never went astray in these circumstances, he informed Gibbs gravely.

Cate typically wasn't backward about coming forward when it came to team meetings and couldn't see what everyone was making such a fuss about. "Personally, I don't see a problem, Gibbs. I like not having him make chauvinist remarks every five seconds or trying to find out what I did the night before last and no constant harping on about his dumb movies. Oww Abby, what was that for?" She glared at her gal pal, rubbing her arm where Abby had punched her trapezium.

"That was for Tony, Cate! I want him back, not this pod person who returned from New York City. He's decided that he needs to reinvent himself again after we rejected him because he isn't good enough for us. And I've apologised to him ‘til I'm blue in the face but he just smiles at me and tells me I didn't do anything wrong. Do something, Gibbs. Fix Tony, please!" Abby pouted, stamping her foot as Gibbs rolled his eyes and grimaced.

"Like what Abbs? I've tried, you've tried, Ducky's talked him into a coma… sorry Duck," the ME smiled to show he hadn't taken offence. "But when I tried to explain to him, he wouldn't listen. Just kept fobbing me off, saying I shouldn't feel guilty…that his parents didn't want him around, sent him off to boarding school and even they asked him to leave, so he didn't blame his co-workers. Just kept telling me he was fine. Made me feel like crap," Gibbs admitted scowling.

"Look, people, Tony's just moping. I tried to apologise but he was too childish to accept it. He'll get over it, stop pandering to him. You're reinforcing his juvenile behaviour by making a mountain out of a molehill. If we ignore him, he'll come around, trust me. I know what I'm talking about, I've got two brothers." Cate preached, obviously feeling her psychological insights qualified her to lecture them. "Oww… will you stop punching me, Abby! You're supposed to be my friend."

"Yeah well, I never realised how judgey you were, Cate. And Tony's NOT sulking. He really has managed to convince himself that our meanness is due to his failings, ergo in his mind, we have nothing to apologise for. That's why he won't accept our apologies.”

Seeing Cate’s obvious scepticism, Abby rolled her eyes theatrically, “Haven't you notice that he is always quick to take to the blame when things go wrong? Call yourself a psychological profiler," she taunted Todd condescendingly.

Gibbs looked at the usually ebullient Dr Mallard. "You haven't said anything yet, Duck. How can we fix this?"

Ducky looked at the others solemnly. "Honestly, Jethro I find myself at a loss. I don't think Anthony has ever felt like he was good enough to earn his parents' unconditional love. That's probably why he feels like he needs his masks when he's around people… that we won't find the real Anthony good enough either. And unfortunately, we confirmed his fears when we rejected him or made him feel unwelcome or forgot him. Semantics," he said, waving away their objections before they had a chance to utter them.

"It doesn't matter if we didn’t mean to reject him or that we are sorry. What matters is our young friend's perception. Of how he sees himself and how he perceives the behaviour of his friends. He's been rejected by the very people who are supposed to love him; they told him his whole childhood that it was because he was lacking. So why shouldn't he blame himself for our behaviour too?" Ducky asked, looking across at Cate who was squirming uncomfortably.

"As our resident profiler, Caitlyn, perhaps you could help me understand about automatic thoughts?"

Cate seemed to welcome the change of topic as she frowned in concentration, "Sure Ducky. Well… we have hundreds of thoughts, automatic thoughts that occur constantly every minute of every day as we attempt to make sense of our world.” 

Pausing she tried to recall her lectures in undergraduate psychology. “Automatic thoughts occur in the limbic system in the brain which controls immediate responses, so it can make rapid assessments and snap judgements when needed. When it is in overdrive though, it can lead to anxiety, depression and sleep disturbances."

She paused and saw that everyone was listening closely, not sure where the conversation was going. She knew how they felt but it was a lot better than talking about a pouting DiNozzo.

Focusing again on Ducky's question, she continued. "Some automatic thoughts can lead to cognitive distortions when they are based on deeply ingrained core beliefs, often developed at an early age which is fundamentally false or flawed. Automatic thoughts that are based on faulty reasoning can be highly destructive since, by their very nature, they are automatic, so the person isn't aware of them." She paused and nibbled one of Ducky's chocolate digestive biscuits which was what he called cookies.

"Um…if I remember correctly, there are a number of different types of automatic thoughts such as _over-generalisation_ which is pretty self- explanatory, labelling and self-labelling, where you label a group of people or in the case of self-labelling, then you label yourself as mean or stupid or worthless or smart etc.”

Concentrating hard, Todd distractedly tucked a stray lock of hair which was bothering her behind her ear. “Hmm there’s also _mind reading_ where you think you know what others are thinking about you, usually it’s attributing negative stuff like _‘everyone is thinking how fat I look in those shorts’_ but usually wrong, nevertheless._ Personalising automatic thoughts _are where you take the blame or else you blame others for outcomes outside your or their control.

“Umm, there’s also _shoulding _which is where you're constantly focusing on what you should be doing instead of focusing on what you are doing, at least I think that _shoulding _is an automatic thought, Ducky. I can do some research for you if you like?" the profiler offered, clueless not only about the reason why the wily doctor was asking about automatic thoughts but also that he was already well acquainted with the subject.

Ducky smiled at Cate. "Thank-you my dear; I would be most grateful.” He turned and regarded Gibbs penetratingly, as Gibbs nodded subtly, before the ME addressed them all seriously, "You wanted to know how we fix this? I'm not sure if we can since we didn't cause it, although we were just starting to break through his defences. We had begun to earn his trust so that he could show us a little of who the true Anthony really is.”

Looking sad, he continued, “Even if it wasn't our intention, we have proved to him that his deepest fears were correct and that he still doesn't make the grade. That he isn’t good enough. While we weren't the cause, we definitely reinforced his belief and yes we all exacerbated it."

The blue eyes that were usually gentle now looked world-weary, and old; Ducky glancing at his colleagues could see his own guilt mirrored in their eyes. He sighed before continuing, sharing his thoughts with the young ones.

"Attitudes and beliefs formed in childhood are not easily changed, I fear. This isn't some television program where the bad guys are always caught, and mistakes can simply be fixed because we wish it was so and we regret our errors. We can't tie everything up into a neat little solve, resolved in a forty-four-minute window and by the next episode all is forgotten."

That was Ducky's chief criticism of the idiot box and the way it trivialised real problems, portraying banal and simplistic solutions that miraculously fixed everything, especially on television dramas. "Real life means despite the best of intentions, that we often fall on our faces trying to fix things and then we pick ourselves up again and try again."

"It means perseverance and not giving up on him or letting him push us away." He looked at the team who was nodding in agreement and he was hopeful that they would stay the course since it would be a marathon that they must run, not a hundred-yard dash.

"All I can counsel is that we mustn't force him either. If we do that, he will likely see our concern as pity, not friendship or love and he will likely take off again and this time he might not come back."

Once Ducky had finished, they all contemplated what he said, feeling overwhelmed at the enormity of it all. Not to mention guilty about the damage they'd unwittingly wrought, angry that parents had such power to inflict absolute devastation upon a powerless child.

Gibbs finally looked at his wristwatch and sighed, "Well… I guess we better get back to work. DiNozzo should be back soon and it won't help our case if he thinks we're talking about him behind his back. Last thing we need.”

Delivering a stink eye at the team he continued. “We have to fix this, you're all on notice. That damn interfering Carla woman has got a Hispanic intelligence network to rival the CIA, I swear. She somehow managed to find out where I live, and she turns up to lecture me about DiNozzo without fail, as soon as I settle down with my boat."

He didn't add that she presumed to lecture him sanctimoniously about his _self-indulgent wallowing in grief_ and _how he was dishonouring his loved ones and pickling his brain_. He didn't know how she'd found out his secret, but she made him feel like he was back at grade school and he had hated it. The problem was that he was powerless to stop her, he was a match for most people, but she somehow had his measure and her stare was enough for him to turn into a gibbering idiot.

It was an unpleasant experience for the arrogant Marine who was accustomed to bulldozing over everything and everyone. He needed it to stop!

Cate snorted sarcastically. "Well, how would you like to have Lil The Rottweiler on your case, Gibbs? She decided to rat me out to my Parish Priest, and he counselled me about my uncharitable behaviour and somehow, I found myself in the confessional and next thing I knew, I was given penance. My knees have repetitive strain injury from kneeling and scraping off all the chewing gum that little heathens have stuck on the underneath of the pews. How the heck did she find out where I go to church, anyway?"

Abby smirked. "So that explains why you are so much snarlier that usual, Cate. I thought it was because Lil whacked you over the head with her handbag when you went to question her after Tony took off from the hospital?"

"No, Abby that happened when Gibbs made me go back later on and tell them all that Tony was back in the hospital in New York. It sucks being the probie and that bag was heavy, Abby. I think she carries a brick around inside it. I'll bet that DiNozzo gave her the idea." Cate protested; her face puckered up indignation.

Abby bounced up and down excitedly. "Oh yeah Cate, you're right. That sounds like a totally Tony thing to do. He probably gives them all self-defence classes down at the Y, too

Cate snorted, muttering darkly about DiNozzo needing a whack over the head and Abby shot her a glower.

"Don't you think it's a bit juvenile to be displacing your anger on Tony, though? And it's not like you're the only one the LOLs have turned their considerable ire onto, Cate. Stop being a whiny widdle baby and suck it up," she advised the ex-secret service agent, unsympathetically.

"Whadda they do to you, Abbs?" Gibbs inquired curiously.

"Nothing I didn't deserve, Bossman," she reassured him calmly. “Turns out that Rae and Sister Rosita are like best buds suddenly, can you believe the six degrees of separation vibe and like Rae, might have mentioned what happened to Tony.”

Seeing the interested looks of her colleagues, she explained, “Think Rae went to nursery school with her or something and now the nuns are sooo disappointed in me.” Her eyes glistening, the Goth said, “They keep give me these great big cow eyes; it's awful."

"They give you penance too, Abby?"

"Nu-uh, I'm not practising, Cate. Actually, I'm not even Catholic, my parents were agnostics, but the sisters told me I could make an act of contrition if I was really repentant, so I benched myself from the bowling team for a month. But I still have to go to games and support the team, and they all look at me like I've let them down."

She wiped a lone tear from her pale green eyes and looked at the team. "I just feel really horrible when Tony smiles and gives me a hug and says I haven't done anything to apologise for, so he doesn't need to forgive me. I think that is a much worse punishment, by far than the nuns." Abby looked down, her bottom lip quivering frenziedly.

No one spoke for a while.

Finally, Cate broke the silence. "What did the LOLs do to you, Ducky?"

Dr Mallard looked at the inquisitive trio and smiled gently. "They didn't do anything, Caitlin. I invited the lovely LOLS as you call them out to Reston House to have high tea with Mother and humbly admitted that my behaviour as a friend and colleague was appalling and that my performance as young Anthony's physician was also inexcusable.

“I vowed to do better in future, and we’ve joined forces to try and ensure that it doesn't happen again."

Ducky never noticed the aggrieved looks he received from Cate, Abby but especially Gibbs. He was positively scowling at the thought Ducky had managed to charm his nemesis, while he was still being tortured by Carla. Somehow, Mrs Santiago had decided to adopt him as her personal project.

Flashback

_Gibbs sank down on the sawhorse, battered by years of use in his boat making endeavours and he reached for the bourbon bottle. He picked up the dusty Mason jar, regarding it critically, then upending it a few times to chase away the dust before pouring a healthy slug into the container. As he took a sip, he thought about his absent senior field agent and wondered if he would come back._

_Abby had received a text from him, saying he was staying with a frat brother so at least Gibbs knew he was getting better. Taking another sip, he heard someone walking through the house and confidently approaching the door to the basement, so he figured it was someone that had been there before. _

_Retrieving his gun because it was dangerous to make assumptions, he trained the Sig Saur at the door and waited as an elderly figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Damn it, it was that busybody Carla Santiago._

_What the devil did she want and how did she find out where he lived. Ignoring his gun, she proceeded down the stairs and planted herself in front of him. Although he really wanted to tell her to get out, he inexplicably seemed to have lost his tongue_

_Eyeing the bottle of Jack Daniels on the bench and the dirty jar, she shook her head in distaste. _

_"I wonder what your wife would say, if she could see you now, Leroy. Do you think she would see this wallowing in self-pity as proof of your abiding love for your family? I doubt it; I think she would like to kick your culo for being a snivelling coward."_

_Gibbs opened his mouth to tell her to get to the hell out of his house and to mind her own god-damned business. Nobody had asked for her opinion. _ _He_ _ wanted to tell her she didn't know what she was talking about but when he tried to speak, nothing came out, bar a rather pathetic gurgle. AND she called him Leroy, and no one called him that and lived. _

_Yet, here she was - a ninety-pound dripping wet, elderly woman who barely reached up to his armpits when she was holding herself tall and she was matching him, glare for glare and then the unbelievable happened. Unable to face the pain, suffering, anger and yes, the pity in her eyes, HE broke eye contact._

_"You think you are the first person to lose your family, Leroy? You think that I don't know what I'm talking about. I can see it in your eyes. Let me tell you, I have lost siblings and a parent to malnutrition and preventable diseases due to not having access to _ _the most basic medical assistance. I have lost a child due to gangland violence and evil and I have seen my granddaughter die because of a drug overdose, so I know about grief and loss, young Leroy." _

_He opened his mouth to tell her it was different, Shannon and Kelly were special, they were his life and he wasn't there to protect them, to do his job. He let them down and he deserved to suffer because of it but for some reason, the feared interrogator of NCIS could only manage a, "I… I… I…you…you," before he gave up on the attempt to form a coherent response, feeling like an awkward schoolboy again. Functional mute… oh yeah, this woman left him speechless!_

_Unfortunately, it seemed that Carla hadn't finished with him yet. "Would your family feel guilty seeing you shut yourself up in the basement for the rest of your life, punishing yourself because you survived, and they didn't? Ask yourself this Leroy, if you had died on active service, would you want your wife to spend the rest of her life in pain, punishing herself as some misguided proof of how much you meant to her or to pickle her liver in the demon drink? _

_“Wouldn't you want her to mourn you and then in time, find happiness again? It's time to move on; help others if you won't find happiness for your own sake and theirs… but just lose that chip on your shoulder. You are a MARINE man, not a coward."_

_She gave him that damned look again that robbed him of his words even though they were being shouted out loud, clear and very ugly in his head and turned and walked up the stairs._

_When she reached the top, she turned and fixed him with that look, daring him to look away. "I enjoyed our chat, Leroy. We'll talk again," and he wasn't sure if it was threat or promise but Gibbs soon discovered she was true to her word._

End of Flashback

Gibbs wondered if he could use Ducky's strategy and simply invite the Three Witches to his place for a cookout and confess his deficiencies and promise to turn over a new leaf? It would be a relief to be able to have a drink without worrying that his own personal busybody/sobriety coach was going to turn up and have a chat with him, damn her.


	10. I'm Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ducky ruminates on the visit with the LOLs and the task that awaits.

As Ducky returned to Autopsy, he admitted to himself that he hadn't been completely forthcoming with his friends. Truth be told, he had given the delightful LOLs _(as they had been universally christened by everyone at NCIS, although he preferred to think of them as Anthony's Grandmothers)_ his sincere mea culpa. That much was definitely true.

He had invited them home to meet his mother and it did not escape his attention that it was hypocritical (not to mention ironic) that he had worked with Anthony for over two years and hadn’t invited him home, yet he barely knew these redoubtable ladies before inviting them to his domicile. Yet his intentions were not confined to saving his mature posterior from a whooping.

After having a good hard look at himself and his behaviour, he realised that his mother's illness had been making him rather insular.

Sadly, Alzheimer's and dementia did that to the family and carer-givers of those individuals who lived with the disease. Outsiders often seemed to see it as a transmittable affliction, something like how ‘cancer’ or ‘consumption’ used to be whispered about a century before as if there was a stigma to having it and it could be caught just by being around someone diagnosed with it. Ducky understood it had been the fear of horrible lingering death and the fact that there was no cure that had terrified so many people.

Dementia still evoked a similar primordial avoidance response in people towards the ones afflicted and even their loved ones.

Ducky had experienced it personally, watched Victoria's friends and his own, drift away with weak excuses about busy schedules or when pushed, how they couldn't stand to watch his formidable mother fall apart before their eyes. It had caused Ducky to shut himself, well both of them off, socially. Oh certainly, Reston House bustled with people coming and going, but they were always there in a professional capacity, his mother's nurse companions, doctors making house calls, he'd even organised for podiatrists, physical and occupational therapists to do home visits, too.

Since reading about the benefits of music therapy, he was even investigating hiring a music therapist, but he found it much easier for them to come to the house. Less stressful to Victoria and it was definitely far less embarrassing to her son to have health care workers do home visits. And after all, he could afford to pay extra.

But in light of the debacle with young Anthony, he had taken a good hard look at himself and his home life and realised that he shouldn't be so quick to assume that his work colleagues would shun him because of his mother's life-limiting illness. He also really needed to find some people for his mother to socialise with, even if it might be difficult to find the right people. Perhaps looking for new friends who didn't know his mother before, who might be more accepting and less likely to judge her may make for more satisfying companions than the so-called stalwart friends of a lifetime.

With that thought in mind, he had decided to invite Anthony’s grandmothers and give them a proper apology and explanation – warts and all outline of his deficiencies. He suspected that even though his mother was not the woman she once was, she would like the LOLs as much as he did. He admired their pluck and they were obviously women of substance since they saw the inherent goodness in their very special agent.

Even apart from all of those incentives, Ducky had another ulterior motive. As the team had observed rather bitterly, the women had considerable resources and had managed to assemble some very focused intel on their targets to extract their own form of retribution for Tony. Gibbs thought that Carla was using her ties to the Hispanic community and perhaps she was since Gibbs' gut was all-knowing but Ducky had a strong feeling that their snitch might be someone much closer to home. Personally, he had Christopher Pacci pegged as their stool pigeon since he was a supporter of Tony's; had been since Gibbs recruited him after running into him, literally, in Baltimore. Ducky knew though, that if Pacci had been tattling on his colleagues to the LOLs, he was definitely way too much of a professional to have left any incriminating evidence behind.

There was another candidate for the role and ordinarily, he would discount him unequivocally, but his intuition was telling him that it was an inside job. Director Morrow was apparently taking a rather hands-on approach to the situation. He knew that Thomas had a soft spot for Gibbs' senior field agent, too. To his surprise; somewhere along the way, the good director had apparently made the acquaintance of Anthony's grandmothers, presumably through Christopher, who it must be said, got on with them like a house on fire. So, he wouldn't necessarily rule out their highly esteemed leader as the source of the leaks, even if he doubted it was provable. Perhaps he might be able to wheedle it out of Thomas with a wee dram of whiskey and a touch of the Scottish brogue, though.

Whatever the truth about how the formidable trio gathered their data, he noticed that they managed to garner loyalty and friendship wherever they went…well apart from Cate and Gibbs. Abby seemed not to have borne them a grudge and while they were scarily fierce in defence of Anthony, Ducky thought that they had an even more valuable and attractive quality than just their protectiveness. They obviously loved Anthony and he thought that it was probably a unique experience for the young agent. One that would be invaluable in trying to help rebuilt his trust and help start the healing process. He desperately wanted to enlist Lillian, Carla and Raelene into what he knew was a daunting undertaking and recognised he needed to befriend them. They were his best chance for success. 

The doctor pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper as he entered Autopsy. It had been screwed up at some point and since he had started carrying it around in his pocket and taking it out to reread and contemplate its implications, it had become considerably more dog eared and crinkled. Ducky hadn't mentioned its existence to anyone, not Gibbs, not even Anthony but he was greatly disturbed by what it contained. After Anthony had landed in hospital from playing Sir Galahad to the young waif on the street, Ducky had finally come back to NCIS and sat at the young agent's desk, meditating as he had seen its young occupant do on many an occasion. There he sat; trying to figure out just how they'd managed to make such a dog's breakfast of it all and what to do about it.

Following his instinct, something compelled him to look at the trash can beside Anthony's desk, and he saw a balled-up piece of paper on the top of the pile. Not really sure what made him go trawling through the young agent's trash, he nevertheless snatched up that paper. Perhaps it was his Guardian Angel directing him to find it but whether it was fate, kismet, spirit guides or just dumb luck, he was just pleased that he found the note because it enabled him to realise the enormity of the task that they faced.

He truly hadn't been exaggerating down in Abigail's Lab. It was a monumental task they faced, not made easier by their stupid and uncaring behaviour that simply reinforced one of Anthony's innermost fears. Smoothing out the sheet of paper again, he stared at it for the hundredth time, hoping perhaps to find some inspiration or frankly, he'd accept some divine intervention very gladly.

In his distinctive script, Anthony had written

_ **Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo is fine. Yeah right!** _

_ **F is for fucked up beyond all recognition, full of shit, foolish, feeble** _

_ **I is for irritating, idiot, infuriating, indolent** _

_ **N is for Nuisance, nauseating, nasty, non-essential** _

_ **E is for exasperating, egotistical, extrinsic, effete ** _

Even though Ducky had read this self-appraisal many times before, each time he reread it, the pain, anger, and self-loathing leapt up of the page and punched him right in the heart. This was the internal dialogue that Anthony had undoubtedly started to compose as his personality, mind and spirit were being shaped and moulded as a child by his caregivers. An alcoholic father, an alcoholic mother and who knew about the multiple stepmothers and any pathology they may have possessed. What was clear as day though was that none of the surrogate mothers had ever tried to make a difference or they would have reported his father for abuse and neglect.

Nor was he excusing the private tutors, servants who were forced to care for the boy while still completing their _real_ work and schoolteachers who’d never reported the entrenched abuse and neglect.

He honestly didn't know if the abuse was only emotional or not, though there were some huge red flags waving and suggesting otherwise. However, regardless of if it was physical or not, the emotional damage that had been done to a not yet formed psyche of a vulnerable child was extensive. Frankly, the fact that Anthony was such a highly functioning, caring and brilliant investigator was shocking, as was the fact that he not only didn't use his past as an excuse but hid his upbringing, keeping it very much secret from them all.

Ducky was humbled and ashamed each time he read the note. Humbled to know such a complex and wounded young man that manage to hide so much of his own pain and still want to make the world a better place for others. Ashamed because as was frequently the case with the more horrific cases that passed through his domain, he felt ashamed to belong to the same species as someone who could knowingly inflict such hurt and suffering upon another individual. What other species could visit so much harm upon the fruit of their loins?

No, he had definitely not exaggerated the enormity of the task. Cursing the day that the alcoholic excuse for a father that was Anthony DiNozzo Senior had been born, he was reminded of the Biblical passage from Exodus 20:5

_You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me._

Even though Ducky wasn't exactly a religious man, it did seem rather apt.

Their dear boy was certainly paying for the sins of his father.

Hopefully, with the people that had assembled to fight the good fight for him, they might be able to bring an end to that quittance.

Maybe someday they might even be able to grant him a modicum of recompense for all he’d had to endure.

No one deserved it more.

~Finis~

Hope you join the LOLS in the next instalment - Who's Been Cooking in My Kitchen 


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